COLLEGE   DAYS 


OR 


HARRY'S   CAREER  AT   YALE 


JOHN  SEYMOUR  WOOD 


Rewritten  and  reprinted  from  Outing,  May,  1891 — March,  1893 
WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  We  aint  no  thin-red  heroes,  nor  we  aint  no  blackguards  too, 
But  single  men  in  barracks,  most  remarkable  like  you." 


— KIPLING 


THE    OUTING   COMPANY,  LIMITED 

239-241  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK.         170  STKAND,  LONDON,  W.  C. 

.  1894 


c 


COPYRIGHT,  1894, 

BY 
THE  OUTING  COMPANY,  LIMITED. 


All  rights  reserved. 


THE  MERSHON   COMPANY  PRESS 
RAHWAY,   N.    J. 


PREFACE. 


THE  author's  object  in  this  story  of  College  Days  is  to  give  a 
picture  of  student  life  as  it  was  twenty  years  ago.  The  Yale 
of  to-day  is  more  cultured,  less  democratic,  less  boyish  than  in  the 
Seventies.  In  this  story  the  public  student  life  has  been  treated 
rather  than  the  private  life,  and  it  may  be  added  that  the  period  cov 
ered  was  the  close  of  what  has  been  termed  Yale's  "  barbaric  era." 
The  attitude  of  students  to  the  faculty  and  to  one  another,  the 
relations  of  classes,  have  all  materially  altered  for  the  better  these 
latter  years.  The  student  enters  college  at  a  more  advanced  age, 
feels  himself  much  more  of  a  "  man,"  has  already  experienced  some 
of  the  delights  of  secret  societies  at  Exeter  or  Andover,  and  is  alto 
gether  about  as  experienced  as  a  junior  in  the  old  days. 

But  a  Yale  student  of  to-day  has  much  the  same  old  hardy 
spirit  of  his  fathers,  and  the  glory  of  Yale  is  always  his  cherished 
thought.  He  will  die  for  Yale  gladly,  in  his  athletic  contests  ; 
such  is  his  patriotism.  So  will  an  Oxford  or  Cambridge  oar  pull 
his  heart  out  for  his  'Varsity,  if  called  upon,  from  Putney  to 
Mortlake.  Love  and  devotion  to  Alma  Mater  are  the  same  with 
Harry  and  Jack  as  with  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford.  With  the  hope 
that  this  story  will  bring  some  agreeable  reminder  of  college  life 
to  old  "  grads  "  of  every  college,  and  may  interest  the  undergrad 
uate  as  a  picture  of  oldor  times  at  Yale,  the  author  relinquishes  to 
them  what  has  been  to  him  a  pleasant  task. 

.).  S.  W. 
NEW  YORK,  April,  1894. 


I  DEDICATE 
THIS  VOLUME  TO  MY  CLASSMATES  OP  YALE,  '74. 

J.  S.  W. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 
I. 
II. 

IN  THE  BEGINNING,         
ON  THE  CAMPUS,          .... 

PAGE 
1 

16 

III. 

A  COLLEGE  DINNER,       ...... 

.       22 

IV. 

THE  ENTRANCE  EXAMINATION, 

31 

V. 

THE  YALK  SPIRIT,           .... 

.       39 

VI. 

DELTA  KAPPA  INITIATION,          .... 

46 

VII. 

THE  DAILY  LIFE,     ....... 

.       63 

VIII. 

THE  ANNUAL  RUSH,    

74 

IX. 

LAMBDA  Cm,            ....... 

.       82 

X. 

THE  SOPHS  ARE  DISCOMFITED, 

88 

XI. 

THE  FALL  BOAT  HACKS,          

.       93 

XII. 

THE  TURKEY  CHASE, 

109 

XIII. 

THE  TURKEY  FEAST,        .         .    • 

.     117 

XIV. 

MRS.  MOKIARTY'S  :    THE  PRETTY  ELLA, 

123 

XV. 

OLD  BOATING  LIFE,         ...... 

.     134 

XVI. 

SOPHOMORE  SOCIETY  INITIATIONS, 

140 

XVII. 

TEA.  AT  PROFESSOR  SHEPARD'S, 

150 

XV  III. 

THE  BASEBALL  MATCH,       

157 

XIX. 

THE  RACKS  AT  SPRINGFIELD, 

.      109 

XX. 

YALK  AViNS  !        

179 

XXI. 

MRS.  CHESTLKTON  ADMONISHES  

.     189 

XXII. 

THE  SOPH  YEAR  BEGINS, 

197 

XXIII. 

BOGEY  is  HAZED,     ....... 

.     208 

XXIV. 

TUTOR  SMILE,      

220 

XXV. 

THE  FACULTY  MEETING, 

.     228 

XXVI. 

A   VISIT    TO    ClIAKMINGTON, 

242 

VACATION  AT  HOME, 

THE  GENERAL  VISITS  JACK, 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

XXIX.  EASTER  IN  NEW  YORK,        .... 

XXX.  "  SKINNING  "  METHODS, 

XXXI.  COLLEGE  FLIRTS, 

XXXII.  GRADUATING  EXERCISES  AT  COMMENCEMENT, 

XXXIII.  THE  RACE  AT  SARATOGA,     .... 

XXXIV.  AT  MOUNT  DESERT, 

XXXV.  THE  FIRST  THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL  GAME, 

XXXVI.  HARRY  BECOMES  A"  DIG,"      . 

XXXVII.  THE  LOST  UNFORTUNATE  is  FOUND, 

XXXVIII.  THE  JUNIOR  PROMENADE,        . 

XXXIX.  Miss  WALKER  GIVES  A  DANCE, 

XL.  THE  RIDING  PARTY, 

XLI.  THE  GAME  AT  CAMBRIDGE, 

XLII.  THE  NEW  LONDON  RACE,        . 

XLIII.  ON  THE  YACHT,  

XLIV.  VICTORY  AT  LAST 

XLV.  THE  LAST  CHAPTER  OF  ALL, 


PAGE 

274 
287 
294 
302 
309 
322 
329 
347 
351 
361 
374 
383 
390 
395 
402 
410 
420 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

Oi.n  SOUTH  COLLEGE,  .         .   • Frontispiece 

"  Do  PUT  UP  THAT  BOOK,  UNCLE  DICK  !"....  .3 

"  X — X— XEW  HAVEN — TEN  MINUTES  FOR  '  FRESHMEN'!"  G 

DEMURE  BUT  EXTREMELY  PRETTY  CHARMINGTON  GIRLS,     ...  9 

IN  UNCLE  DICK'S  TIME,  17 

QUAD  LEY'S  PICTURE  GALLERY,          .......  23 

DEMONSTRATING  THE  PROBLEM,            .......  83 

THEN  CAME  ANOTHER  KNOCK,           ........  36 

JACK    RIVES'   PET,          .                 43 

"Now  WITH  A  WILL,  BOYS!" 53 

"PROFESSOR  MAYNARD," 55 

THE  CHAIRMAN, 67 

THE  SOPHS  BROKE  RIGHT  AND  LEFT, 77 

JACK  RIVES    HAD  TO  GO  HOME  IN   A  LINEN  DUSTER,     ....  80 

THEY  WENT  ROUND  AND  ROUND, 81 

"  BARNEY," 85 

"  BREAK  AWAY,  BOYS  !  " 90 

POLICEMAN  McCuEA, 91 

THE  RIDE  HOME  AFTER  THE  RACES, 104 

TUTOR  DILWORTHY,             106 

MRS.  MORIARTY, 124 

THE  DOOR  OPENED,  AND  PROFESSOR  HHEPARD  STOOD  THERE,     .         .  143 

"  WHAT  A  YALE  GIRL  You  ARE  !"     .         .         .         .         .         .         .  175 

STAMP 188 

THAT  NIGHT  IN   ins  MAIL   HARRY  FOUND  A  LITTLE  ENVELOPE,        .  206 

"  No  ONE  WAS  THERE  HUT  LITTLE  NEVERS,"         .'        .        .     "    .         .  210 

ix 


X  ILL  US TRA  TIONS. 

PAGE 

ALL  PROCEEDED  TO  LIGHT  THEIR  PIPES, 213 

A  FORAGE  FOR  FUEL,            .        .  218 

HARRY  AND  CLARA  BECAME  SEPARATED  PROM  THE  OTHERS,        .        .  248 

BOB  CLARK  CRUMPLED  UP  HIS  MORNING  PAPER,       ....  284 
"!F  YOU    ALLUDE  TO  A    CERTAIN  Miss  HASTINGS,  HER  IMAGE  HAS 

GONE  OUT  OF  MY  SIGHT  FOREVER,"    .    • 326 

GENERAL  RIVES, 331 

MUFFLED  TO  THE  CHIN  IN  A  BIG  BOA, 335 

JACK  LANSING,            342 

SHE  WAS  PROUD  OF  HER  Two  CHILDREN  THAT  NIGHT,     .        .        .  363 

HARRY  SAW  CLARA  HASTINGS  INTO  HER  CARRIAGE 372 

AUNT  SARAH — THE  QUEER,  LEAN  OLD  MAN  WAS  DAVID'S  FATHER,  423 

"  MAUNIN',  MAS'  CHESTLETON," 428 


COLLEGE  DAYS; 

OK, 

HARRY' 8    CAREER  AT  YALE. 


CHAPTER  1. 

IN    THE    BEGINNING." 

[HE  train  pulled  out  of  the  long,  smoky 
Harlem  tunnel  and  crossed  the  bridge 
with  a  general  sigh  of  relief  from  the 
passengers.  The  day  was  close  and 
"muggy  " — in  the  midst  of  an  unusually 
warm  September.  In  the  forward  seats 
of  their  drawing-room  car,  fanning  them 
selves  briskly,  were  a  number  of  demure 
but  extremely  pretty  Charmington  girls 
going  back  to  school  ;  with  them  there 
were  several  very  warm  and  tired-look 
ing  mammas.  A  young  lad  in  a  tweed 
suit  swung  around  on  his  pivot  chair  in 
the  rear  of  the  car  and  addressed  his 
companion,  a  gentleman  who  seemed  to 

make  some  pretensions  to  classical  attainments,  for  lie  held  an  open 
Homer's  Iliad  on  his  knee.  The  young  fellow  was  well  built, 
strong,  his  skin  clear  as  porcelain.  His  laughing  boyish  eyes 
had  already  made  several  futile  assaults  upon  the  Oharmington 
girls,  and  especially  one  of  them,  a  pretty  brunette,  the  initials  of 
whose  traveling  bag  he  observed  were"  C.  If."  He  wondered  who 
"  C.  II."  could  be.  He  met  his  companion's  frank  gaxe  very  coolly. 


2  COLLEGE   DA  YS. 

"Do  put  up  that  book,  Uncle  Dick,"  he  said,  laughing.  "I 
refuse  to  be  examined.  I  know  I  shall  pass  all  right.  Mother  and 
you  will  be  the  death  of  me." 

"  But  your  mother  would  feel  so  dreadfully  if  you  failed." 

"  I  shan't  fail.      What  an  idea  !  "  he  replied  quickly. 

His  uncle,  who  was  a  man  of  about  thirty,  ran  his  eye  over  a 
few  lines  of  the  Iliad  in  silence.  It  was  more  than  he  could 
do  to  scan  it,  and  so  he  closed  the  book  discreetly  and  laid  it  by 
the  window. 

"I  am  very  sorry  your  mother  took  you  abroad  with  her  this 
summer,  Harry.  You  ought  to  have  gone  up  in  July.  Then  by 
this  time  you  would  have  been  through  with  everything — but  the 
conditions " 

"  Conditions  !     I'm  not  going  to  be  conditioned  !  " 

"  Now,  don't  be  too  cocksure.     I  got  six  when  I  entered  Yale." 

Harry  opened  his  eyes  very  wide. 

"  Yes — but  you  never  went  to  Andover " 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  my  boy,  that  Andover  never  could  hold  a 
candle  to  East  Hampton."  Uncle  Dick  pulled  the  ends  of  his 
mustache  violently,  as  if  with  some  irritation. 

"  East  Hampton — oh,  pooh  !  "  laughed  Harry  contemptuously. 

Uncle  Dick  frowned. 

"  I  tell  you  we  have  turned  out  more  men  of  reputation " 

Uncle  Dick  was  thoroughly  in  earnest. 

"  Andover — George  Washington  was  at  Andover — with  his 
army  !  "  laughed  Harry. 

"Oh,  be — serious  !  "  said  Uncle  Dick.  It  was  evident  that  they 
were  about  to  come  to  blows  over  their  preparatory  schools.  For 
tunately  the  conductor  happened  along,  and  in  the  diversion  of 
showing  their  tickets  the  dispute  was  forgotten.  Harry  spun 
around  for  another  glance  at  the  Charmington  girls — such  a 
strangely  circumspect  lot  he  had  never  seen  before,  and  his 
uncle  buried  himself  in  his  morning  paper.  The  express  swung 
with  a  rush  and  a  roar  through  a  charming  little  seaport  town 
embowered  in  the  deepest  greenery.  As  it  did  so  his  uncle  leaned 
forward  and  whispered  : 


"IN    THE   BEGINNING." 


"  They  very  unkindly  rusticated  me  here,  Harry,  in  S 


when 
I  was  iu  college,  for  stealing  the  clapper  out  of  the  college  bell." 

"I'm  afraid  you  were  terribly  bad  in  those  days,"  the  boy 
laughed.  "  Mother  must  have  worried  awfully  about  yow." 

Uncle  Dick  smiled,  and  relapsed  behind  his  paper  in  silence,  his 
mind  reverting  to  the  memories  of  other  days.  They  reached 


"DO  PUT  UP  THAT  BOOK,  UNCLE  DICK." 

Bridgeport  presently,  and,  as  the  train  came  to  a  full  stop,  outside, 
on  the  platform  of  the  station,  a  band  of  rakish-looking,  well-dressed 
young  men  gave  a  shout  in  unison,  "  Delta  Kappa  !  Delta  Kappa  ! 
Kappa — Kappa — Kap  !  " 

They  seemed  to  shout  their  cry  as  it  were  by  way  of  defiance. 
They  were  evidently  students,  and  as  they  got  aboard  the  train 
and  walked  tli rough  the  car  Uncle  Dick  observed  that  they  were 
possessed  of  all  the  insolent  air  of  sophomores.  They  made  a 


4  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

great  deal  of  noise  and  loud  talk.  They  stared  at  the  pretty  girls 
and  were  entirely  unmindful  how  they  carried  their  canes.  As 
they  reached  Harry's  seat  one  young  man,  in  a  loud,  flashy  necktie 
and  diamond  pin,  bawled  out  to  the  rest  :  "  Where  the  mischief 
are  they  ?  I  say  !  I  guess  all  the  freshmen  will  come  up  by 
boat." 

Harry  rose  quickly.  "I  am  going  to  Yale,"  he  said  politely, 
touching  his  hat.  It  was  sometimes  difficult  to  tell  exactly  when 
Harry  was  in  earnest  and  when  not. 

"  Hold  on,  fellows,  here's  a  sub,"  *  said  the  swell  young  man, 
whose  name  they  found  out  afterward  was  Caswell.  Some  of  the 
sophomores  came  back.  There  was  a  pleasing  odor  of  cigarettes, 
perfumery,  and  an  air  of  high  life — the  life  of  very  great  swells — 
about  them,  which  to  Harry  was  extremely  fascinating. 

"  Pledged  ?  "  asked  the  swell  young  soph,  with  a  half  contempu- 
ous  size-him-up-at-a-glance  stare. 

"No— sir— I " 

"  Well,  you're  not  going  to  risk  going  to  New  Haven  without 
being  pledged,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Great  Scott  !  fellows,  look  here  !  " 

Several  of  the  sophomores,  who  had  gone  on  into  the  smoking 
compartment,  turned  back.  They  all  stared  at  Harry  with  the 
same  impertinent  disdain.  It  may  be  admitted  that  the  "  sub " 
stared  back  at  them  with  an  equal  effrontery. 

"Here's  a  fresh  who  isn't  pledged  to  Delta  Kap." 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  said  one.     "  Impossible  !  " 

"  Now,  then,  just  put  your  name  down  here,  and  it'll  be  all  right. 
It  may  save  you  a  peck  of  trouble." 

"  I'm  an  Andover  man,"  said  Harry,  "  and  I  want  to  go  where 
my  friends  go." 

"  Why,  they  are  all  going  our  way.  Where  were  you  when  our 
delegate  was  in  Andover  last  June  ?  It's  the  only  way  to  go.  The 

*  A  sub-freshman,  one  who  has  not  matriculated,  or  passed  his  preliminary 
examinations. 


"//v  THE  BEGINNING:'  5 

faculty  are  down  on  Sigma  Eps,  and  of  course  no  one  would  be 
seen  dead  in  Gamma  Nu." 

"What  shall  I  do,  Uncle  Dick  ?"  whispered  Harry.  "Shall  I 
sign  ?  I  know  Delta  Kap  is  where  1  want  to  go." 

"  Wait  till  we  get  to  New  Haven." 

Uncle  Dick  was  a  great  wag  in  his  own  serious,  circumspect  way, 
and  he  dearly  loved  a  college  joke.  He  whispered  to  Harry, 
"Make  them  think  I'm  a  freshman,  too,  and  don't  call  me  Uncle 
Dick." 

"  Why  don't  you  pledge  my  classmate  ?  "  said  Harry  boldly  to 
the  sophomores. 

"  He  isn't  going  to  enter,  is  he  ?  Lord,  fellows,  he  looks  as  if 
he  might  be  thinking  of  a  professorship  !" 

"I'm  not  too  old  to  learn,  am  I  ?"  Uncle  Dick  asked  solemnly. 

"  But  you're  old  enough  to  know  better  than  enter  Umpty-four." 

"  Well,  we're  going  to  lay  you  fellows  out  !  "  There  was  a 
smile  of  derision  on  Uncle  Dick's  face. 

"  Will  you  pledge  ?  " 

"  Xo,"  said  Uncle  Dick  timidly.  "  Father  wants  me  to  go  to 
Gamma  Nu." 

There  was  a  shout  of  derision. 

"Well,  go  there  and  be  hanged  to  you  !"  said  Caswell,  moving 
off  vexedly  and  entirely  out  of  patience.  "  I'll  haze  that  old 
fellow  out  of  his  boots  before  the  end  of  the  term  !  "  he  said  wrath- 
fully.  Luckily  for  Uncle  Dick's  welfare  he  never  had  the  chance. 

The  other  sophomores,  each  wearing  a  blue-ribbon  badge,  indicat 
ing  that  they  were  on  the  Delta  Kappa  campaign  committee,  now 
took  up  the  running  with  the  two  freshmen  with  serious  insistence. 
But  Uncle  Dick  gave  them  so  many  good  and  virtuous  arguments 
against  freshmen  secret  societies*  that  they  hardly  knew  how 
to  answer  him  ;  in  fact,  they  couldn't  answer  him. 

"  See  here,  you  !  "  burst  out  one  fellow,  leaning  over  the  seat, 

*  The  freshmen  societies  were  abolished  at  Yale  by  the  faculty  a  few  years 
after  Harry  graduated,  as  were  the  sophomore  fraternities  also.  Those  which 
exist  now,  and  we  arc  told  that  several  do  exist,  arc  only  "  tolerated"  by  the 
faculty,  not  "  encouraged." 


COLLEGE  DATS. 


while   the   passengers    on   all    sides    laughed,     "we    want    you! 

You're  dead  sure  to  take  the  valedictory  !     You've  got  it  in  your 

pocket !     We'll  give  you  a  chromo  and  a  pound  of  tea  if  you'll 

pledge  and  say  nothing  more  about  it  !" 

"  Gamma  Nu  forever  !  "  replied  Uncle  Dick,  laughing.     "  Still, 

gentlemen,  I'm  open  to  argument.     My  friend  and  I  are  not  pledged 

anywhere,  as  yet.     We'll  think  it  over." 

As  the  train  approached  New  Haven  the  sophomores  grew  much 

more  conciliatory  and  more  polite.     They  persuaded  Uncle  Dick 

to  go  back  in  the  smoking  car, 
where  they  offered  him  an  expen 
sive  cigar  and  labored  to  convince 
him.  Presently  the  train  seemed 
to  run  into  a  sort  of  dark  tunnel 
and  stop.  It  was  the  famous  old 
underground  New  Haven  depot. 
"  N— N— New  Haven  ! "  shouted 
a  huge,  smiling  darky  in  a  white 
apron,  coining  through  the  car. 
''Ten  minutes  for  'freshmen'  !" 

Everybody  laughed.  It  was 
the  thing  in  those  days  for  all 
classes  in  New  Haven  to  guy  the 
poor  freshmen  when  they  first 
came  on,  and  everybody,  even 
the  "  cullud  brother,"  seemed  to 
take  generous  advantage  of  it. 
"  Well,  it's  four  years  for  you, 
Harry,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  who 

had  returned  to  his  seat  for  his  bags  and  umbrella.     "  Now,  mind 
what  you  do.     When    we  get  out  here  in  the  crowd,  the  Kappa 

Sigma  Eps  men  will  be  after  us.     You  keep  mum.     They'll  do 

anything  to  pledge  us.     Let  us  hang  off  as  long  as  possible." 

"It's  such  a  joke  your  palming  yourself  off  as  a  freshman — 

you  ! — old  as  you  are  ! " 

"  Why,  I'm   not  thirty  yet,  my  boy  !     I  feel  as  young  as  you 


"  N-N-NEW  HAVEN!  TEN  MINUTES 
FOR  '  FRESHMEN! ' " 


"  IN    THE   BEGINNING."  ^ 

do.  Besides,  I  feel  as  if  I  were  going  to  join  Umpty-four 
myself!" 

"  Pin  in  for  it  when  they  find  you  out  !  "  Harry  laughed. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  you  can  take  care  of  yourself.  You'll  have  a 
hundred  and  thirty  or  so  friends  the  minute  you  get  through  with 
the  examinations  at  Alumni  Hall.  If  they  haze  you  you  haze  back, 
that's  all.  Remember  retaliation  is  the  thief  of  time  !  " 

They  made  their  way  to  the  platform  of  the  dimly  lighted 
underground  station.  Here  students  were  crowding  and  jamming, 
and  all  sorts  of  people  were  struggling  for  the  train.  There  was  a 
pale  youth,  with  a  long,  thin  face  and  colored  spectacles,  standing 
near  a  pillar.  He  looked  so  green  that  Harry  thought  he  would 
try  and  have  some  fun  out  of  him.  "  Hello,  freshie  ! "  he  called 
out  to  him.  "  Pledged  yet  ?  " 

He  thought  the  pale  youth  was  about  to  explode.  "Sh-sh  !" 
laughed  Uncle  Dick  in  a  whisper.  "Don't  you  know  who  that  is? 
Why,  what  a  freshman  you  are  !  That's  Professor  Cube,  the 
famous  author  of  Cube's  series  of  arithmetics." 

Harry  tried  to  hide  himself  by  diving  in  the  crowd.  But  think 
ing  it  was  probably  one  of  Uncle  Dick's  jokes,  he  returned  to  him. 

They  watched  the  row  going  on  at  the  end  of  the  platform. 
There  seemed  to  be  two  crowds  of  students  doing  battle  against 
each  other,  one  lot  shouting  in  unison  "  Delta  Kappa  !  Delta  Kap- 
pa-Kappa-Kappa-Kap  !"  and  the  other  "Sigm&repsf  Sigmarepsf 
Hooray,  Sigrnareps  !"  The}r  were  hustling  a  poor  meek  freshman 
between  them,  and  it  appeared  that  the  poor  freshman  was  getting 
much  the  worst  of  it. 

While  they  were  watching  the  fun  the  members  of  the  com 
mittee  from  the  rival  fraternity,  that  of  Kappa  Sigma  Epsilon, 
got  hold  of  them,  their  bags  and  umbrellas,  and  were  for  immedi 
ately  hustling  them  off  into  hacks  and  hurrying  them  up  to  college. 
Fortunately  the  astute  Caswell,  with  a  great  shout  of  dismay  and 
re-enforced  by  a  do/en  Delta  Kaps,  rushed  to  their  assistance.  For 
a  moment  it  was  very  like  real  war.  Then  there  was  a  hasty  flank 
movement,  and  they  all  climbed  the  depot  stairs  pell-mell  and 
poured  out  into  the  street.  The  two  fraternities  pulled  and  hauled 


8  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

each  other  about  in  the  most  fraternal  spirit  imaginable.  It  seemed 
like  a  football  game.  Harry  thought  it  great  fun,  and  Uncle  Dick, 
who  had  been  an  old  rowing  man  himself  in  days  gone  by,  pulled 
and  hauled  as  hard  as  the  rest  ;  he  seemed  to  enjoy  the  sport  very 
well. 

"Now  see  here,  you  confounded  Sigmareps  men  !  "  shouted  Cas- 
well,  liis  hat  smashed  over  his  head,  making  him  look  extremely 
idiotic,  "these  freshmen  don't  want  any  Sigmareps  kindergarten! 
This  man  Lyman — is  that  your  name  ? — before  Lyraan  quite  made 
up  his  mind  he  was  in  need  of  a  college  education  he  had  at  least 
six  grandchildren  ! — he's  much  too  old  to  go  into  Sigmareps  kin 
dergarten,  you  see,  so  he'll  send  on  his  grandchildren  next  year  !  " 

The  ridiculous  allusion  to  a  kindergarten  seemed  to  make  the 
Sigma  Eps  men  furious.  They  caught  hold  of  Harry  and  his 
uncle  by  one  arm,  and  Caswell  and  the  Delta  Kaps  caught  them 
by  the  other.  They  tugged  and  hauled,  until  Mr.  Lyman,  perspira 
tion  pouring  down  his  face  from  every  pore,  determined  upon 
strategy,  dark  and  mysterious. 

"  Gentlemen  !  "  he  shouted,  "  isn't  there  some  comfortable  place 
near  here  where  we  can  get  a — er — lemonade,  and  talk  this  thing 
over  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  come  along  over  to  Brood's,"  said  Caswell  hotly,  leading 
the  way.  The  whole  noisy  crowd  of  students  followed  toward  the 
entrance  of  a  small,  highly  respectable,  old-fashioned,  brick  dwell 
ing  house. 

Brood's  was  then  in  the  full  prime  of  its  glory.  On  hot  sum 
mer  nights  it  was  where  the  Yalensian  of  those  days  took  his  lexi 
con  and  Latin  grammar,  his  Tacitus  and  his  Herodotus,  and  sat  till 
the  small  hours  pouring  over  his  books,  in  company  with  a  catawba 
cobbler  of  the  most  mellifluous  character.  Ladies,  you  little  know 
how  studious  your  sons  and  brothers  become  in  such  a  purely  classi 
cal  atmosphere!  Brood's  !— ah,  me!  how  easily  the  old  fellow 
surpassed  the  Parnassian  recipe  for  nectar  !  * 

*  We  tflist  that  parents  and  guardians  will  kindly  take  this  cum  cjrano  salis. 
Students  of  Harry's  time  rarely  studied  aught  but  truth— in  vino  veritas—in 
the  bottom  of  a  cobbler. 


"AV    THE   BEGINNING."  9 

They  entered  the  door  of  the  dwelling  house  and  passed  upstairs 
in  Indian  file.  Caswell  called  out  to  the  jolly  barkeeper,  "  Ned  ! 
send  us  out  fourteen  catavvbas — Sigmareps  can  pay  for  their  own  !  " 

The  barkeeper,  in  a  neat  white  apron,  smiled  and  nodded.  They 
filed  past  the  bar,  down  a  short  flight  of  steps  to  a  charming,  cool, 


DEMURE   BUT   EXTREMELY   PRETTY   CIIARMINGTON   GIKLS. 

vine  covered  arbor.  A  musical  fountain  was  playing  into  a  shallow 
iron  basin.  Here  and  there  were  little  tables  at  which  students 
were  sitting,  sipping  their  sherbets  and  lemonades  out  of  long,  fas 
cinating  glasses  through  straws. 

While  the  cobblers  were  coming,  and  after,  the  debate  waxed 
high.  The  merits  of  the  two  fraternities  were  discussed  in  no 
measured  terms,  and  with  loud  approving  applause  and  disdainful 
hisses  Caswell  trotted  out  the  great  and  eminent  Delta  Kaps  of  his 


10  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

class — Dobson,  a  big  boating  man  ;  Steele,  the  pitcher  of  the  nine  ; 
McCutchin,  the  great  single  sculler  and  winner  of  the  Southworth 
Cup.  Harry  was  greatly  impressed.  They  wore  Delta  Kap  pins 
on  their  waistcoats  and  square  sophomore  society  pins  on  their 
scarfs.  They  ordered  a  second  round  of  cobblers.  They  were 
very  mild,  but  insinuating,  the  cobblers. 

"  Harry,  you'd  better  take  a  lemonade  this  time,"  said  his  uncle. 
"  Remember  that  examination  to-morrow  ;  keep  your  head  clear, 
my  boy." 

"Oh,  I  guess  I'll  go  just  one  more,"  said  the  lad.  Uncle  Dick 
fell  into  a  discussion  with  some  Sigma  Eps  men  and  Harry  was  left 
to  be  "  stuffed  "  by  Caswell  and  his  friends.  Cobbler  No.  2  loosened 
his  tongue  a  little  and  deprived  him  of  his  usual  caution.  He  for 
got  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  his  natural  born  enemies  ! 

"  Of  course  you  know  of  Professor  Brood,"  said  Caswell,  "head 
of  the  scientifs  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Harry.     "  What  of  him  ?  " 

"  Oh — he  runs  this  place  to  help  eke  out  his  salary." 

"  What— a  professor  ?  " 

"  Why,  Prof essor  Brood  is  the  h}rdrostatic  professor  on  liquids, 
you  know,  in  the  scientific  school.  He  conducts  most  of  his  experi 
ments  here." 

Harry  wondered  if  he  was  being  chaffed,  but  Caswell  and  his 
friends  were  so  serious  that  he  thought  it  impossible. 

"  You  generally  meet  most  of  the  faculty  here  every  night. 
Prexy  always  has  a  warm  lemonade  before  going  to  bed.  Now,  by 
the  way,  almost  all  the  facultj^  are  Delta  Kap  men." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  be  in  with  the  faculty,"  said  Harry  sagely. 

"  You'd  better  pledge,  Mr.  Chestleton,  before  it's  too  late  ;  you 
may  get  left,"  said  another.  "  The  faculty  are  down  on  men  not  in 
Delta  Kap." 

It  seemed  so  nice  to  be  called  Mr.  Chestleton  !  What  fun  it  was 
already  !  He  felt  he  was  being  made  so  much  of,  and  he  wondered 
if  this  was  what  he  was  to  expect  his  entire  college  course  to  be. 
How  jolly  of  the  faculty  to  be  convivial  and  all  that  !  At  Andover 
"  Old  Unk,"  as  the  boys  irreverently  called  Dr.  Taylor,  looked  with 


"AV    THE  BEGINNING."  II 

a  sinister  and  terrible  eye  upon  all  sorts  of  conviviality,  and  no 
saloons  had  been  allowed  to  approach  Phillips  Academy  nearer 
than  Lawrence,  which  was  miles,  away.  Perhaps  it  was  because 
the  boys  had  now  grown  to  be  "men,"  and  were  to  be  treated  by 
the  professors  as  equals  and  out  in  the  world.  "  Why  was  it  you 
weren't  pledged  with  the  rest  of  the  Andover  men  at  Andover  last 
summer?"  asked  Caswell. 

"  Because  I  was  in  Europe  ;  but  even  if  I'd  been  here — mother 
doesn't  approve  of  secret  societies,  you  know." 

There  were  several  ill-concealed  guffaws  of  laughter. 

"  Perhaps  your  mother  would  prefer  you  not  to  join  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  hang  it,"  said  Harry,  reddening,  "  I  don't  believe  she  will 
care.  When  a  man  gets  away  from  home  he's  got  to  do  as  others 
do.  I'm  going  to  go  in  for  all  the  societies  I  can — one  each  year. 
What  does  a  man's  mother  know  about  these  tilings  ?" 

"Are  you  going  on  the 'varsity  crew  or  ball  nine?"  asked  a 
mild-looking  soph  pleasantly,  as  he  lit  a  cigar. 

"Or  both?"  asked  a  third. 

"Oli,  I  don't  know,"  said  Harry — the  second  cobbler  made  him 
feel  strangely  confidential.  "  I  was  short  stop  on  our  nine  at 
Andover,  so  I  guess  I'd  better  go  in  for  baseball.  Say,  how  is  it, 
fellows,  can  a  man  go  in  for  athletics  and  take  a  high  stand  at  the 
same  time  ?  " 

"  Well,  that  depends.  Do  you  feel  inclined  to  take  the  valedic 
tory  ?  " 

Everyone  was  silent  now,  awaiting  his  reply. 

"  I  should  like  to  show  my  family  I  could  do  it.  My  sister's  an 
awful  tease.  I'd  like  to  show  her.  She  thinks  she  knows  more 
Latin  than  I  do — the  idea  !  " 

"The  idea!"  laughed  the  sophs.  Harry  laughed  too  ;  the  cob 
bler  made  him  see  the  funny  side  of  everything. 

A  slim,  mild-looking  gentleman  with  a  huge  watch  chain  and 
watery  eyes,  and  a  very  fat,  seedy-looking  gentleman,  with  creases 
in  his  cheeks  and  little  piglike  eyes,  came  out  from  the  house. 

"  Why,  here  are  Professor  Brood  and  Professor  Sadley,  now  !" 
exclaimed  Caswell.  The  fat  gentleman  wiped  the  perspiration 


12  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

from  his  forehead  and  took  a  seat  near  them.  Harry  could  hardly 
believe  he  was  really  in  the  presence  of  the  faculty. 

"  What  sort  of  a  freshman  class  have  you  got  this  year,  Pro 
fessor  Sadley  ?  "  asked  Caswell,  tipping  him  the  wink. 

"  Not  much — pretty  poor  pickings  !  "  said  Professor  Sadley. 
"  They're  superlatively  and  vividly  green  this  year." 

"  Let  me  present  Mr.  Chestleton,  of  the  incoming  freshman 
class,"  said  Caswell.  "  He's  quite  ripe " 

"  Wai,  I  hope  he  aint  a-goin'  ter  be  plucked,"  laughed  Brood. 

"  What  !  not  Chestleton f  "  exclaimed  the  "professor." 

"  Yes — the  great  and  (thank  Heaven  !)  only  Chestleton," 
answered  Caswell. 

"  Why,  how  do  you  do,  sir  ?  I've  heard  of  you."  He  extended 
his  hand  gravely. 

"  At  Andover  he  was  famous,"  said  Caswell.  "  He  was  their 
short  stop." 

"  Oh,  my  friend  Dr.  Taylor  has  written  me  all  about  him,"  said 
the  fat  gentleman.  "  Wonderful  talent  !  wonderful  mind  !  Yale 
College  is  to  be  congratulated,  sir,  on  its  acquisition."  He  bowed 
graciously,  and  Harry,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  bowed  too. 

Professor  Sadley  bowed  low  again  gravely,  and  there  were  cigars 
all  around.  The  two  professors,  winking  at  the  sophs,  drew  their 
seats  up  to  the  table. 

"Have  you — er — had  occasion  to  look  into  my  grammar  ?"  asked 
the  fat  gentleman  affably — "  Sadley's  Greek  Grammar  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "-  said  Harry.     "  We  studied  it  at  Andover." 

"  Hope  you  looked  upon  it  favorably  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Hope  you  enjoyed  the  irregular  verbs?  "  and  he  quoted  half  a 
dozen  Greek  words. 

"  I  had  to,  sir.    Unk  made  us  like  them  before  AVC  got  through  !  " 

"  I  made  them  as  easy  as  I  could,"  he  laughed.  "  And  now  I 
know  you,  Mr.  Chestleton,  I  shall  enjoy  so  much  hearing  you 
recite — er — er.  Won't  you  please  repeat  for  me  now  the  second 
aorist  of  rvTrroo  ?  " 

"  Professor  "  Sadley  closed  his  eyes  as  if  about  to  listen  to  the 


"IN    THE   BEGINNING."  13 

most  delightful  music.  "  Go  on,  go  on,  please.  I  often  hear  my 
recitations  li ere,  in  connection  with  my  old  friend,  Professor  Brood. 
Go  on  !"  Harry  turned  red,  while  "Professor"  Brood  looked  on 
with  a  grim  but  kindly  grin.  He  was  used  to  student  jokes. 

"  I'd  rather  not,  sir.  Oh,  come  on,  Uncle  Dick,"  he  cried  sud 
denly,  "  let  us  be  going  up  to  college  !  " 

The  latter  was  busy  talking  with  several  students  of  the  glories 
of  old  Mother  Yale.  He  seemed  to  know  a  good  deal  about  them. 

"Yes,  we  must  be  going,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  rising.  "Good-day, 
gentlemen — er — the  dinner  at  Gradley's,  at  seven,  did  you  say, 
Mr.  Caswell  ?  " 

"  Yes,  prompt  seven,  Mr.  Lyman,"  said  Caswell,  who  had  invited 
them  to  meet"  certain  prominent  Delta Kaps"  at  dinner  that  night. 
Mr.  Lyman,  who  was  fond  of  good  living,  as  he  was  of  a  good  joke, 
had  promptly  accepted  the  invitation.  They  took  leave  of  their 
friends  at  Brood's,  and  as  they  walked  up  Chapel  Street  toward  the 
colleges,  Harry  asked  : 

"  Was  that  fat  gentleman  Professor  Sadley,  really  ?  It  couldn't 
be  possible  !  " 

"  Xo,  my  boy  ;  lie  was  an  alumnus  by  the  name  of  Ilethering- 
t-ou  ;  an  example  of  a  man  who  never  survived  his  college  course. 
He's  been  hanging  around  New  Haven  for  the  last  ten  years.  He 
was  a  very  promising  senior  when  I  was  a  freshman.  He  was  a 
Greek  wonder.  They  prophesied  great  things  of  Hetherington, 
but  look  at  him  now." 

"  I  should  think  he  had  all  run  to  fat,"  said  Harry,  laughing. 
The  boy  was,  as  yet,  a  curious  mixture  of  blissful  ignorance  and 
audacity. 

"  So  he  has — an  example  of  a  man  who  could  have  made  a  great 
reputation  as  a  Greek  scholar,  but  who  got  too  fond  of  good  living, 
and  who'll  end  up  by  drinking  himself  to  death,  probably.  But 
even  to-day  I  hardly  know  whether  he's  fonder  of  the  bottle  than 
his  favorite  Greek." 

They  walked  up  the  left  side  of  the  street  and  passed  many 
pretty  girls,  all  of  whom  had,  as  Uncle  Dick  said,  "  the  historic 
New  Haven  stare."  They  never  dropped  their  eyes  as  they  passed, 


14  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

and  Harry  (poor  innocent  "  freshy  ")  actually  found  himself  blush 
ing  and  being  almost  stared  out  of  countenance. 

When  they  came  to  the  famous  green,  with  its  smooth  grassy 
lawns,  its  straight  paths,  and  its  line  of  stiff  churches,  and  the  mil 
dewed  Greek  Parthenon  of  a  State  House — long  since,  alas, 
destroyed — in  the  distance,  Harry  thought  they  had  arrived  at  the 
college  campus.  He  was  for  turning  in  past  the  old  Washington 
elm,  but  his  uncle  held  on  his  course.  "There  is  old  Trinity,"  he 
said,  pointing  out  the  vine-covered  old  stone  church,  "and  this  is 
the  famous  Temple  Street.  See  how  the  elms  arch  above  it,  and 
form  a  Gothic  roof.  Isn't  it  beautiful  ?" 

"  Do  they  have  their  baseball  matches  down  there  on  the  green  ?  " 
asked  Harry  irrelevantly. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  they  go  out  to  Hamilton  Park,  I  believe,  for  baseball  ; 
it  is  about  two  miles  out  toward  West  Rock.  There  are  two  famous 
hills — East  and  West  Rock — you  know.  Some  day  you  must  walk 
out  and  climb  them.  There  are  plenty  of  beautiful  walks  around 
New  Haven,  and  you  must  take  them  this  fall  and  get  acquainted 
with  the  general  lay  of  the  land.  You  must  go  out  sailing,  too, 
and  get  an  idea  of  the  harbor  and  where  the  lighthouse  is  and  the 
Thimble  Islands.  How  I  wish  I  was  just  going  to  college  !  There 
is  no  more  delightful  four  years  in  a  man's  life.  It's  a  world  by 
itself,  with  its  joys  and  sorrows  ;  but  you  have  no  such  struggle  as 
goes  on  in  the  great  world.  The  chief  worries  of  life  are  bills — 
and  your  bills  will  generally  be  met  and  paid.  And,  by  the  bye, 
Harry,  you  must  be  careful  and  not  spend  too  much — not  over 
one  thousand  dollars  a  month,  you  know." 

Harry  laughed  with  a  jolly  air.  He  was  a  deliciously  frank  and 
confiding  youngster,  and  he  had  a  zest  and  relish  for  everything  he 
heard  or  saw.  Though  three  years  at  Andover,  the  school  life  had 
not  sophisticated  him. 

They  arrived  at  the  New  Haven  House,  which  seemed  to  be 
crowded  to  the  doors  with  students,  most  of  whom  belonged  to  the 
incoming  class. 

"Hello,  fellows!"  cried  Harry,  shaking  hands  with  one  or  two 
of  his  Andover  friends.  They  had  Latin  grammars  or  text-books 


of  some  kind  in  their  hands.  They  dreaded  the  entrance  examina 
tion  of  the  morrow,  but  they  could  not  be  persuaded,  any  of  them, 
to  go  to  their  rooms  in  the  hotel  and  work.  They  preferred  to  be 
out  on  the  street  and  in  the  front  of  the  hotel,  seeing  what  was 
going  on.  A  fat,  well-dressed  sophomore  stood  on  the  corner  of 
Chapel  Street,  conversing  with  a  number  of  students.  Some  of 
Harry's  friends  pointed  him  out. 

"  That's  the  great  Billy  Holland,"  they  said  ;  "  he's  the  president 
of  Delta  Kap,  and  there  is  Gifford,  the  stroke  of  the  university  crew, 
talking  with  him." 

Harry  went  into  the  hotel  with  his  uncle  and  registered.  The 
proprietor  greeted  him  with  a  paternal  smile, 

"Don't  you  think  you'd  better  go  to  your  room  and  study?" 
Uncle  Dick  asked  jokingly.  "You  will  have  two  good  hours 
before  our  dinner." 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  want  to  see  the  '  fence '  and  walk  about  over  the 
campus  first,"  replied  the  lad  eagerly.  "  I  want  to  see  everything 
I  can  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Very  well,  come  along,  then,  and  bring  your  friends  with  you." 
Uncle  Dick  lit  a  huge  cigar,  and  they  followed  him  out  of  the  hotel 
across  Chapel  Street. 


CHAPTER  II. 


ON    THE    CAMPUS. 


strolled    over   to    the   fence   where, 
along  Chapel   and   College   streets,  were 
little  groups  of  students,  some  talking,  some 
singing,  and  almost  everyone  smoking  pipes 
or  cigarettes. 

"  This  is  the  famous  fence,"  said  Uncle  Dick. 
"  It  is  very  convenient  to  sit  on.  You  can 
just  catch  your  heels  on  the  second  round  very 
nicely.  It's  as  comfortable  as  an  easy-chair. 
This  is  where  the  social  life  of  the  college  centers.  I  hope  it 
will  never  be  i-emoved,  though  the  disposition  on  the  part  of  the 
faculty  is  to  remove  it  and  disperse  these  daily  gatherings.  In 
my  opinion  the  splendid  democracy  of  old  Yale  will  receive  a 
blow  the  moment  the  fence  is  gone.  Here  a  man  shows  what's 
in  him,  forms  his  lasting  friendships,  and  shows  what  he  really  is 
to  his  classmates." 

Harry  and  his  friends  perched  on.  the  fence,  and  the  former  felt 
a  secret  thrill  of  joy  as  his  Uncle  Lyman  went  on  : 

"  We  are  now  sitting  on  the  senior  fence.  Below  that  gateway 
there  is  the  junior,  as  far  as  the  corner.  Then  around  the  corner 
comes  the  sophomore  fence.  Freshmen  have  no  fence." 

"  Why  not?"  asked  Harry,  apparently  much  grieved.  "There's 
lots  of  room  for  them  ?  " 

"  Well  —  er  —  you  see,  it  would  be  dangerous.  You  are  too 
young  to  roost  on  it.  You'd  only  fall  off  and  hurt  yourselves," 
laughed  his  uncle.  "  Toward  the  end  of  the  year  the  sophs  move 
over  to  the  junior  fence  and  the  freshmen  have  a  chance  at  it,  but 
it  is  always  a  matter  of  favor  to  them  and  depends,  I  believe,  on 
whether  they  beat  Harvard  at  baseball." 

16 


OAr    THE    CAMPUS.  17 

They  roosted  for  a  while  longer,  and  Uncle  Dick  met  one  or  two 
old  friends  who  happened  along  and  whom  he  shook  by  the  hand 
warmly.  They  laughed  when  he  told  them  about  the  dinner  the 
Delta  Kap  men  were  going  to  give  him  that  night  in  order  to 
persuade  him  as  well  as  his  nephew  Harry  to  go  "their  way." 


IN    UNCI.E    DICK'S   TIMK. 

One  of  Harry's  Andover  friends,  Jack  Rives,  nudged  him  and  said 
in  a  whisper,  "  That's  Professor  Ritchie  talking  to  your  uncle." 
"Is  it?"  said  Harry  vaguely.  "I  think  he's  got  such  a  pleasant 
face.  I  wonder  if  he  goes  down  to  Professor  Brood's  much,  and  if 
lie  will  have  us  in  Latin  ?" 

Then  they  found  out  how  he'd  been  guyed  by  Caswell  and  his 
sophomore  friends  and  laughed  at  him. 

"  Oaswell   is  a  very  popular  man  in  Umpty -three,"  said   Rives. 


1 8  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"  He's  rich — drives  a  dog-cart,  and  rents  a  house  on  York  Street; 
and  they  say  actually  keeps  servants.  He's  a  regular  howling 
swell  ;  he  and  Billy  Holland." 

Harry  told  them  how  he  and  his  uncle  were  going  to  "  play  "  it 
on  Caswell. 

"  Look  out,  Harry  ;  he'll  haze  you  to  death  for  it  later,  old  boy  ! " 

"Then  I'll  haze  him  back,"  said  Harry  stoutly.  *"Rah  for 
Urapty-f our  ! " 

His  uncle  soon  joined  them. 

"This  first  brick  building  of  the  old  brick  row,"  said  he,  acting 
as  cicerone  to  the  new  boys,  "is  South  College.  Many  famous  men 
once  roomed  here  in  their  senior  year.  Chief  Justice  Waite  and 
Mr.  Evarts  had  that  second-story  back  room.  Chaunce}T  Depew 
had  that  one  in  the  south  entry.  Judge  Howland  had  that  middle 
front  room.  I  had  that  north  corner  room,"  and  he  smiled  with 
pleasant  recollection.  • 

They  passed  along  the  stone  walk  before  the  building.  On  the 
trees  were  nailed  advertisements  of  furniture  to  sell,  and  notices  of 
meetings,  etc.  One  startling  advertisement  of  furniture  read  as 
follows,  at  a  distance,  to  their  astonishment : 


PREXT  STOUT 

WILL   WEAR 

A    WOODEN    LEG 
To  Chapel  To-morrow  Morning ! 


But  on  a  nearer  approach  it  read  :  "  Prexy  Stout  has  won  the 
respect  and  admiration  of  all  who  know  him.  We  predict  that  he 
will  wear  as  well  through  his  term  of  service,  and  that  his  retirement 
will  be  a  cause  of  regret.  But  it  will  cause  no  such  remorse  as  a 
failure  to  attend  the  great  sale  of  wooden  and  iron  furniture  now  in 
progress.  If  you  would  get  what  you  want,  O  Freshman,  just  leg 
it  to  202  Durfee,  even  if  it  makes  you  late  to  chapel  to-morrow 
morning  !  " 


ON    THE    CAMPUS.  19 

"Well,"  laughed  Harry,  "I  should  think  the  faculty  would  sit 
on  that." 

"  Well,  they  sit  on  almost  everything,"  sighed  Uncle  Dick, 
"and  I  dare  say  the  day  will  come  when  they  will  sit  on  the 
fence  !  " 

"  This  old  building  is  South  Middle,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  pointing 
with  his  cane.  "Here  are  the  sophomores' dens.  Here  they  con 
ceive  their  villainies.  Listen,  and  you  will  soon  understand." 

"  Oh, /res A  /  Oh,  Fr-e-e-e-sh  !  "  came  out  of  the  open  windows  of 
a  third-story  front.  A  crowd  of  sophs  were  standing  about  the 
door  of  one  of  the  entries  and  echoed  the  cry,  "Oh,  my,  poor 
freshy!" 

South  Middle  seemed  very  dilapidated  and  old.  The  brick  front 
was  weather  worn,  and  the  entire  building  seemed  to  bo  in  need  of 
repairs.  The  boys  paid  no  attention  to  the  sophs  and  passed  on, 
feeling  rather  proud  of  being  dubbed  "freshy"  by  men  in  college. 
It  made  them  feel  as  if  they  belonged  there,  too. 

+s  O 

"I  wish  I  was  back   in  college  myself,"  said   Uncle  Dick  with  a 

O  \, 

sigh.  "What  fun  I've  had  in  that  old  building  !  What  midnight 
suppers!  What  peanut  'bums'!  What  narrow  escapes!  Ah, 
me — Postume,  Postume!  Elieu  Postume,  labuntur  annif" 

"He  was  'wooden-spoon'  man  of  his  class  and  awfully  popular," 
said  Harry,  in  an  awed  whisper,  and  there  was  a  respectful  silence 
as  the  old  'grad'  mused  over  the  long-forgotten  memories  of  other 
days  for  some  moments.  "  Here  is  the  chapel,"  he  said,  "  with 
these  tall,  gloomy  pillars  in  front  of  it.  It  is  about  as  unpleasant  a 
house  of  worship  as  Puritan  ingenuity  could  make  it.  The  backs 
of  the  scats  are  bent  forward  and  the  seats  themselves  very  narrow, 
so  that  you  can't  be  comfortable  if  you  try,  and  if  you  do  try  you 
fall  off.  Then  they  fire  at  you  two-hour  sermons,  and  they  compel 
you  to  listen  to  them,  for  you've  got  to  be  present  or  they  will  fine 
you  eight  marks.  In  my  day  they  had  chapel  every  morning  at 
7.30  ;  on  Sunday  they  had  church  at  10  and  2.  I  frankly  admit  that 
I  had  too  much  of  a  dose  then,  and  it's  been  hard  to  get  me 
inside  a  church  since.  But  perhaps  you  boys  will  like  it.  I 
used  to  like  to  hear  the  anthems  at  Easter.  The  best  singing  in 


20  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

the  world.  Perhaps  I  am  prejudiced— I  used  to  sing  bass  until  I 
found  I  had  a  tenor  voice." 

"  Uncle  Dick,  why  did  they  give  up  the  wooden  spoon  ?  "  asked 
Harry. 

"  A  great  mistake,"  he  replied.  "  But  I  suppose  it  got  to  split 
ting  up  classes  too  much,  on  account  of  the  politics  involved.  You 
will  find  Yale  the  best  school  for  politics  in  the  world.  The  wooden 
spoon  was  given  to  the  most  popular  man  in  tiie  class.  Then  there 
were  eleven  spoon  cochleaureati,  who  stood  next  in  popularity. 
Oh,  I  don't  know  ;  we  used  to  have  great  fun  out  of  it,  but  it  has 
died  out  at  last.  The  spoon  exhibition  was  always  the  great  event 
of  the  year.  Now  they  have  theatricals  all  the  time,  I'm  told — 
especially  the  Thanksgiving  jubilee.  I  remember  Professor  Blinks, 
no\v  one  of  the  most  severe,  glum,  and  solemn-looking  spectacled 
members  of  the  faculty — I  remember  Dave  Blinks  acted  the  part 
of  a  billy  goat  in  my  day,  and  did  a  double  clog  on  his  hind  legs, 
to  the  edification  of  an  audience  which  filled  Music  Hall  from  floor 
to  ceiling.  Great  days  those  !  But  they  are  all  past  and  gone. 
There  is  not  so  much  fun  in  college  life  now  as  then.  Do  you  see 
the  dark-brown  stone  building  over  there  at  the  end  of  Durfee 
Hall  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"That  is  Alumni  Hall.  There  are  held  all  the  examinations. 
It  is  a  terrible  building  for  some.  That  is  where  you  are  going 
to-morrow,  Harry.  Do  you  notice  how  easjr  it  looks  to  go  in  and 
how  hard  to  come  out  ?  "  And  Uncle  Dick  went  on  to  tell  them 
some  amusing  reminiscences. 

They  walked  over  to  Alumni  Hall  and  then  back  past  Farnam 
College,  just  then  completed.  "  I  suppose  in  time  they  will  have 
a  great  quadrangle  with  dormitories  around  the  edge  of  the  campus, 
and  flower  gardens  and  fountains  in  the  center.  But  for  me,  give 
me  the  '  old  brick  row.'  The  rooms  are  comfortable  and  are  not 
too  fine  or  fancy.  Why,  they  tell  me  they  have  lace  curtains  and 
upholstery  and  pianos,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  in  these  new 
buildings.  I  don't  believe  in  it  ;  it  will  ruin  Yale  College— the 
boys  will  get  to  be  Sybarites  !  " 


ON    THE    CAMPUS.  21 

They  walked  on  a  little  way  "  'neath  the  elms  of  dear  old  Yale," 
and  Uncle  Dick  continued  : 

"  In  my  room  I  had  a  cheap  carpet,  a  table,  a  kerosene  lamp, 
three  or  four  wooden  chairs,  a  pair  of  dumb-bells,  an  old  lounge 
that  came  over  in  the  Mayflower,  and  perhaps  a  set  of  shelves  for 
books,  and  an  old  Franklin  stove.  We  used  to  black  our  own 
boots  and  make  our  own  beds,  some  of  us.  Now,  every  entry  has 
its  '  sweep,'  who  acts  in  place  of  a  valet.  How  many  changes  are 
going  on  here  !  These  new  buildings  alter  the  campus  very  much. 
I  can't  say  I  altogether  like  it  ;  it  doesn't  seem  natural  to  me,  and 
every  building  that  goes  up  necessitates  cutting  down  an  elm." 

They  returned  to  Chapel  Street  and  sat  on  the  fence.  Jack 
Rives  was  a  sturdy,  wiry  young  fellow,  with  a  frank,  honest  face, 
lie  and  Harry  were  to  room  with  each  other,  and  Jack  told  his 
friend  he  had  found  good  quarters  over  on  York  Street,  in  a 
remarkably  quiet  boarding  house,  where  only  ten  other  freshmen 
had  taken  rooms,  and  they  would  take  their  meals  in  an  eating  club 
hard  by. 

"  Why,  I  thought  we  would  live  in  one  of  the  big  dormitories," 
said  Harry  disappointedly. 

"  Freshmen  must  room  wherever  they  can,"  said  Uncle  Dick. 
"  Next  year  you  can  get  a  room  in  college,  and  I  advise  your  going 
into  South  Middle,  which  is  generally  given  over  to  sophomores 
because  it  is  too  noisy  for  upper-class  men." 

After  another  stroll  through  the  campus  and  seeing  the  "gym," 
in  which  half  a  dozen  men  were  at  work  running  and  jumping, 
Harry  and  his  uncle  went  back  to  the  New  Haven  House  and  pre 
pared  for  their  dinner. 

"  Oli,"  said  Harry  delightedly,  "  I  am  going  to  enjoy  college 
life — I  know  I  am.  It's  all  so  jolly  !  Singing,  fun, — faculty  no 
where  in  sight, — and  all  New  Haven  for  a  playground  !  Oh,  it's 
grand  !  though  I  do  think  that  freshmen  ought  to  have  their 
building,  just  as  the  other  classes." 

"  Well,"  laughed  his  uncle,  "  that  is  easily  remedied.  Just  die 
ajid  leave  the  college  a  dormitory." 


CHAPTER  III. 

A    COLLEGE    DINNER. 

BROOD'S,  Mrs.  Moriarty's,  Charlie  Gradley's,  and 
Gus  Lager's  are  names  familiar  enough  to  Yale 
graduates  of  ten  years'  standing.  Horresco  referens 
— but  our  story  shall  be  nothing  if  not  true  to  the  life 
of  those  college  days.  Let  others  tell  of  the  immacu 
late  youth  who  went  straight  from  his  mother's  apron 
strings  to  college  and  passed  through  its  jolly  four 
years  without  having  been  acquainted  with  that  genial  old  piece 
of  respectability,  Mrs.  Moriarty  !  To  know  the  good  old  soul  was 
an  education  of  itself. 

The  Gradleys  catered  to  the  student  appetite  for  late  suppers,  game 
dinners,  and  swell  college  society  feasts.  Located  on  a  side  street 
in  the  center  of  the  town,  "  Gradley's  "  was  then  the  bohemian  Del- 
monico's  of  New  Haven.  It  was  a  hotel,  restaurant,  and  bar  room, 
and  down  below,  out  of  sight,  was  supposed  to  be  a  dog  and  cock 
pit  and  a  twenty-four-foot  prize  ring.  Policemen  and  members  of 
the  faculty  rarely  ventured  within  Gradley's  precincts,  and  man}1- 
a  student,  suspended  and  rusticated  for  cause,  has  passed  a  week 
in  hiding  there,  under  the  very  eyes  of  the  college  and  the  noses 
of  the  faculty.  Here,  too,  at  many  a  champagne  supper  college 
politics  waxed  rife  and  logs  were  rolled  and  plans  laid  for  future 
conquests. 

It  was  here  (if  anywhere  in  those  days)  that  the  upper-class  man 
allowed  himself  to  unbend  to  men  of  a  lower  class,  and  to  treat 
them  as  if  they  were  actually  to  be  permitted  to  breathe  the  same 
air  of  heaven  with  him  !  In  fine,  the  old  hotel  was  a  place  where 
bohemianism  with  a  spice  of  the  improper  prevailed — so  delightful 
to  the  student  rnind  !  Here  were  seen  the  "  sports  "  of  the  college 


A    COLLEGE   DINNER. 


with  their  bulldogs  ;  the  flash  set,  the  "  hard  "  lot.  If  you  passed 
along  the  narrow  little  street  at  a  late  hour  some  jolly  college 
song  could  have  been  surely  heard  coming  out  of  an  open 
upper  window,  and  you  knew  some  students  were  dining  and 
wining  there,  regardless  of  chapel  and  early  recitation  the  next 
morning. 

When  Harry  and  his  uncle  arrived  at  Gradley's  it  was  just  dusk 
and  the  barkeeper  was  lighting  the  gas.  Harry  amused  himself 
by  looking  at  the  sport 
ing  pictures  hung  about 
the  walls.  There  were 
ladies  of  the  ballet  stand 
ing  on  one  toe,  and  hunt 
ers  in  red  coats  leaping 
tive-barred  fences.  There 
were  pictures  of  emi 
nent  trotters  and  brightly 
painted  cuts  of  cele 
brated  fighting  cocks. 
His  uncle  approached  a 
large,  heavy  looking  man, 
whose  face  beamed  with 
a  fat,  benevolent  smile, 
and  shook  him  by  the 
hand. 

"Why,  Mr.  Lyman,  I 
remember  you  very  well," 
said  Gradley,  for  it  was  he. 
"  You  used  to  own  a  first- 
class  dog." 

"  Don't      let      on      you  GRADLEY'S  PICTURE  GALLERY. 

know     me.       The      sopho 
mores    are    giving    us    a    dinner    to    pledge    us    to    Delta    Kap  ! " 

"  Xo  !  "     laughed     Gradley.     "  Well,    that's    a    good    joke    on 
them  !  " 

"  Well,  keep   it  mum  !  "    laughed   Uncle    Dick.     "  This    is    my 


24  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

nephew— Harry  Chestleton— just  entering  college."  They  shook 
hands,  and  Gradley  beamed  pleasantly. 

"  I've  got  a  good  dog  for  him,  as  gentle  as  I  ever  see.  Cost  one 
hundred  dollars.  Want  a  dog  ?  Sell  him  for  seventy-five  dollars." 

"  What  kind — a  Newfoundland  dog  ? "  asked  Harry.  Mr. 
Gradley  looked  at  him  contemptuously  for  a  moment,  while  Dick 
laughed. 

"  He  means  a  bulldog — a  fighter,"  said  he. 

"  Well,  what  should  I  want  of  such  a  beast  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

At  which  Mr.  Gradley  looked  down  on  him  more  contempt 
uously  than  ever.  "  Why  every  gent  as  considers  himself  a  gent 
has  a  dog,"  said  he. 

Harry  wondered  if  this  were  true. 

Presently  Caswell,  Billy  Holland,  Gifford,  and  three  or  four 
other  sophomores  entered. 

""  Where  are  those  confounded  freshmen  ?"  asked  Holland,  who, 
though  somewhat  fat,  was  as  handsome  as  an  Apollo,  and  dressed 
in  very  swell  evening  clothes.  He  didn't  observe  Harry  and  his 
uncle.  When  he  did  he  said  rudely  : 

"  So  you're  making  our  committee  have  a  devil  of  a  time  pledg 
ing  you,  are  you  ?  "  and  lie  laughed.  "  Well,  from  what  I  can  see, 
you're  hardly  worth  a  dinner,  either  of  you.  No,  sir — and  you  look 
old  enough  to  be  Mr.  Methusaleh.  Are  you  this  young  chap's 
father  ? " 

"Oh,  let  up,  Billy,  be  decent  to  the  fresh  gentlemen!"  said 
one  of  his  friends,  and  he  walked  away,  talking  to  Charlie  Gradley. 

"  He's  been  working  very  hard  this  week  in  the  campaign,  and 
he's  had  to  drink  hard  to  keep  up,"  said  another  to  Harry  confiden 
tially.  "  The  Sigma  Eps  men  have  made  it  very  hard  for  us. 
They've  kept  us  on  the  drive,  and  the  work's  all  come  on  Caswell 
and  Billy  Holland." 

They  went  upstairs  shortly  after,  and  entered  a  rather  shabby 
room,  hung  with  a  tawdry  chintz.  The  table  was  laid  for  twelve, 
and  at  each  plate  were  several  wine  glasses. 

"  Many  a  dinner  have  I  eaten  here,"  whispered  Uncle  Dick. 
"It's  the  same  furniture— the  same  old  chintz." 


A    COLLEGE  DINNER.  25 

Caswell  introduced  his  friends.  They  were  all  nothing  loath  to 
spend  the  D.  K.  campaign  funds  in  giving  a  dinner  in  this  way  and 
having  a  good  time,  and  they  were  as  polite  and  affable  to  Harry 
and  his  uncle  as  possible.  To  be  sure  they  talked  a  good  deal  of 
the  prowess  and  victories  of  Umpty-three,  but  they  told  Harry  a 
good  deal  of  what  he  wanted  to  know  about  the  crew  and  the  ball 
nine  and  about  the  junior  and  senior  societies. 

"The  junior  societies,  you  know,"  said  Caswell,  "are  B.  K.  E. 
and  Phi  U.,  and  the  senior  are  Spade  and  Grave  and  Book  and 
Lock  ;  now  if  you  join  Delta  Kap  you  are  sure  of  Spade  and 
Grave,  d'ye  see  ?  And  let  me  tell  you  once  for  all — you'll  find  it 
out  soon  enough  yourselves — that  your  one  aim  in  college  will  be 
to  get  into  a  senior  society.  That's  what  we're  all  here  for,  and 
as  there  are  but  thirty  vacancies  and  a  hundred  and  forty  odd  in 
your  class,  why  you  and  your  friend  Avant  to  hustle  and  make 
a  right  start  now  in  the  freshman  year,  if  you  Avant  to  reach  them, 
d'ye  see  ?  Now,  if  you  get  into  Sigmareps  Lord  knows  Avhat  Avill 
become  of  you  ;  A'ou'll  sort  of  waste  aAvay  and  get  forgotten  ;  dry 
rot  will  set  in,  and  you  won't  amount  to  anything  ;  and  you'd 
better  commit  suicide  at  once  rather  than  join  Gamma  Nu." 

"But  mother  doesn't  approve  of  secret  societies,"  said  Harry, 
laughing  inwardly. 

"  Well,  your  mother's  all  right,  of  course,"  said  CasAvell  airity  ; 
"but  she  doesn't  know  the  advantages  of  Delta  Kappa — she  isn't 
a  member,  and  how  can  she  knoAV  ?" 

"  That's  so,"  said  Harry,  yielding  a  little. 

"Now,  Mr.  Chestleton,  I'll  fix  it  all  right  Avith  your  mother. 
Professor  Jones  was  in  Delta  Kap.  I'll  get  him  to  write  her  ; 
I  know  he  approves  of  it.  He  said  once  that  Delta  Kap  had  been 
the  making  of  him.  He  got  such  a  start  there  that  he's  gone  on 
all  right  eArer  since." 

"  Has  he  ?  "  said  Harry,  looking  round  the  table.  There  were 
nine  sophomores,  with  a  seat  vacant  for  Holland,  Avho  Avas  busy 
writing  campaign  letters  in  the  next  room.  Two  or  three  had  on 
their  dress  suits  and  talked  about  going  out  later  to  a  reception 
and  dance  on  Ilillhouse  Avenue.  It  all  seemed  very  fine  indeed  to 


26  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

him.  The  champagne  was  iced  to  a  nicety.  The  oysters  were 
delicious, — his  first  venture  on  the  dainty  New  Haven  bivalves, — 
and  what  birds  !  How  jolly  college  life  was  indeed,  and  what  an 
auspicious  beginning  !  to  know  all  these  great  men  already  ! 

"  I  believe  I'll  take  all  my  meals  here,"  he  said  to  Dobson,  a 
huge,  manly  looking  sophomore  who  sat  next  to  him.  Dobson 
rowed  on  the  'varsity  crew. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Dobson,  "  the  food's  too  rich.  You'll  want  to  go 
in  training,  probably.  Grad ley's  is  all  very  well  once  in  a  while,  but 
it's  not  to  be  thought  of  for  common.  Holland  and  Caswell  dine 
here  too  often.  You  don't  want  to  get  in  with  the  fast  crowd  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Harry,  "  I'm  going  in  for  athletics." 

"  That's  right." 

"I  want  to  play  on  the  freshman  nine,  and  have  a  tvy  for  the 
'varsity." 

"  Well,  they  are  after  good  men,  whatever  class  they  happen 
to  belong  to.  A  new  era  is  dawning  for  Yale.  For  four  years 
Harvard  has  had  it  all  her  own  way.  But  tilings  are  going  to 
change,  and  there's  a  man  in  our  class  going  to  change  them." 

"Who  is  that?" 

"  Well,  it's  Bob  Clark.  He's  that  modest  looking  man  at  the 
end  of  the  table  on  the  other  side." 

"  He  doesn't  look  as  if  he  was  going  to  do  much,"  said  Harry 
dubiously. 

"  Well,  just  Avait  and  see.  He  is  really  very  strong,  the  best 
boxer  and  wrestler  in  the  college,  and  he  takes  to  rowing  as  a  duck 
does  to  water.  He  is  an  ideal  boating  man,  and  he  strips  at  a  good 
weight — 158.  We're  making  up  a  purse  now  to  send  him  to  Eng 
land  to  learn  the  English  stroke." 

"I'd  like  to  have  a  go  at  him,"  said  Harry,  who  felt  his  cham 
pagne  a  little.  "  I  used  to  wrestle  at  Andover.  Why,  yes  ;  Bob 
Clark  was  there  a  year,  I  believe.  I  remember  him  now.  But 
I  never  knew  him  to  speak  to." 

"  Well,  you  Avait  and  see.  I  believe  that  Clark  is  going  to  revo 
lutionize  rowing  in  this  country  before  he  gets  through — he's  so 
full  of  ideas  about  it." 


A    COLLEGE   DINNER.  27 

Then  Caswell  started  up  the  song  "Jolly  D.  K.,"  and  followed 
it  up  with  one  or  t\vo  other  college  songs.  Holland  came  in 
sleepily,  and  seemed  to  have  got  rid  of  some  of  hi*5  bad  humor. 
He  took  his  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table  and  ordered  a  "  thick 
porterhouse,  and  broil  it  underdone,  mind."  Then  he  proceeded  to 
make  a  little  speech. 

"  We're  here  on  serious  business,"  he  said  with  a  yawn.  "Delta 
Kappa  is  the  largest  college  secret  society  in  the  United  States — I 
mean  has  the  largest  active  membership  in  one  chapter.  Why, 
there  are  over  seventy  members  in  our  class,  sixty  in  Umpty-two, 
and  about  sixty  in  Umpty-one.  That  makes — how  many  does  that 
make  ?"  lie  asked,  turning  to  Bob  Clark. 

"  It  makes  about  270  altogether  in  college  at  one  time." 

"  Two  hundred  and  seventy — all  in  Delta  Kap.  What  point 
was  I  going  to  make,  Bob?  My  head  is  so  full  of  the  champagne 
— I  mean  campaign — I  don't  know  what  I  am  saying." 

There  was  a  laugh. 

"  Why,"  said  Clark,  "  if  there  are  so  many  in  Delta  Kap,  it 
shows  that  it's  the  most  popular  society  in  college,  doesn't  il  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Holland.  "  That's  it.  I  knew  I  had  some  sort 
of  an  idea."  And  everyone  laughed  and  talked  of  the  coming 
college  year. 

They  came  to  coffee  and  cigars.  Uncle  Dick  told  a  number  of 
good  stories,  and  there  was  more  singing.  Holland  got  his  beef 
steak  and  began  eating  it.  "Xow  it's  time  we  heard  from  the 
young  Lord  Chesterfield,  who  is  here  with  his  royal  dad,"  he  said. 
"  Mr.  Chestnut,  please  rise  and  address  the  chair." 

There  was  loud  applause  and  Harry  rose.  He  had  never  made  a 
speech  before.  The  room  swam  around  him.  "  Ge-gentlemen  of 
Delta  Kap,"  he  said,  "  I — I  like  your  society  first-rate.  I  think  I'll 
pledge — and  so  here's  my  hand  for  Delta  Kap." 

"Rah  !  rah  !  rah  !"  shouted  Caswell,  waving  his  napkin  around 
his  head.  Harry  couldn't  think  of  anything  more  to  say,  so  he  sat 
down  covered  with  blushes  and  confusion. 

Uncle  Dick  got  on  his  feet.  lie  began  to  talk  very  quietly  and 
reverently  of  Yale  in  the  past  and  of  its  future  glories.  As  he  did 


28  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

so  he  unbuttoned  Ids  coat  as  if  by  accident,  and  disclosed  on  his 
waistcoat  a  senior  society  badge.  The  effect  was  magical. 

Holland,  Caswell,  Clark,  and  all  the  sophs  turned  a  greenish, 
sickly  hue  and  said  nothing. 

"  Governor  Yale,"  he  orated,  "  when  he  gave  his  name  and  library 
to  that  little  school  at  Saybrook  was  doing  more  to  make  his  name 
famous  than  Shakspere  in  writing  '  Hamlet,'  or  Napoleon  in  win 
ning  Austerlitz.  Oh,  gentlemen,  here's  to  good  old  Yale  !  May 
she  live  forever  !  From  her  first  class — a  little  Indian  boy  of 
one — she  chooses  now  from  every  school  in  this  vast  country.  Sir — 
I " 

"  This  isn't  the  alumni  dinner,"  remarked  Caswell  sotto  voce. 
He  was  disgusted  at  the  turn  things  had  taken. 

"Here's  to  the  class  of  1795  !  "  said  Holland, rising.  "  We  have 
with  us  to-night,  unexpectedly,  an  old  graduate — in  fact,  the  oldest 
living  graduate.  But  I  move  we  initiate  him  into  Delta  Kap  just 
the  same,  since  he  has  expressed  a  desire  to  pledge " 

"I'm  going  to  Gamma  Ku,"  laughed  Lyrnan. 

"Well,  you  have  a  good  one  on  MS/"  laughed  Dobson.  "It  is 
the  best  grind  I  ever  saw  !  So  you're  an  old  hand  at  this  business, 
I  suspect — here's  to  you,  sir  !  " 

"  Here's  to  Umpty-three  !  "  shouted  Harry,  enjoying  the  joke 
at  the  sophs'  expense. 

"  Oh,  you  young  rascal  !  "  said  Caswell,  with  a  warning  finger. 
"  We  will  have  to  get  even  with  you  some  way  !  " 

Then  Uncle  Dick  said  :  "I've  had  my  fun,  fellows,  and  now  I'm 
going  to  insist  on  paying  for  it.  My  nephew  is  just  coming  on,  and 
I  am  not  going  to  let  him  be  a  mark  for  your  hazing  proclivities, 
Mr.  Caswell.  So,  if  you  please,  I'll  pay  for  this  dinner,  and  you 
will  consider  it  as  given  to  Umpty-three  by  a  worshipful  fresh 
man." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  it's  too  good  a  joke  on  us,"  laughed  Holland.  "  We'll 
pay  the  shot  ourselves.  Delta  Kappa  doesn't  get  fooled  often,  but 
once  in  a  while  even  Homer  nods,  eh  ?  " 

But  Lyman  would  not  have  it.  He  paid  the  bill,  and  all  said  he 
was  a  mighty  good  fellow.  Then  they  went  up  to  college,  locking 


A    COLLEGE   DINNER.  29 

arms,  and  walked  up  Chapel  Street,  singing  as  the\r  marched  to  the 
fence.  Some  juniors  at  the  fence  were  singing  "  Mary  Aileen  "  and 
"  Nelly  was  a  Lady."  It  was  beautiful.  The  moon  poured  its 
light  down  through  the  magnificent  elms  and  bathed  the  New 
Haven  House  in  a  flood  of  light.  At  the  windows  could  be  seen, 
here  and  there,  the  face  of  some  fair  maid,  to  whose  listening  ears, 
probably,  the  juniors  were  directing  their  warbling.  Harry  won 
dered  if  any  of  them  were  as  lovely  as  the  Charmington  girl  lie 
saw  in  the  train,  the  one  with  the  dark  gray  eyes.  To  him  it  was 
all  romantic,  fascinating,  delightful.  The  sophomores  who  were  at 
the  dinner  in  dress  suits  jumped  into  a  hack  and  rode  off  to  the 
dance  on  Hillhouse  Avenue.  Harry  and  his  uncle  sat  on  the 
fence  and  listened  to  the  singing.  The  great  trees  above  them 
made  a  vast  dome,  through  which  the  moonlight  percolated  as 
with  a  shower  of  silvery  light.  They  were  singing  "  Ah  me, 
magnovem  te." 

Then  out  from  the  shadows  of  the  elms  above  the  junior  fence 
came  the  pretty  song  : 

"  Stars  in  the  summer  night 
Far  in  yon  azure  deeps, 
Hide,  hide  your  golden  light, 
She  sleeps,  my  lady  sleeps  !" 

"  This  is  old  Yale  at  its  best,"  said  Uncle  Dick.  "  As  someone 
has  said,  it  would  be  the  most  delightful  place  in  the  world  for  a 
fellow  to  live  were  it  not  for  its  religious  and  literary  exercises. 
That  is  its  more  serious  side — what  you  are  really  here  for,  T 
suppose.  But  I  believe,  on  the  whole,  the  social  life  is  the  most 
valuable.  The  classics  and  mathematics  fade  out  of  your  life,  but 
the  friends  you  make  remain  forever." 

"I  only  hope,"  said  Harry  solemnly,  "  that  I'll  live  through  the 
whole  four  years,  and  that  I'll  never  be  dropped  and  compelled  to 
go  to  Harvard  !  " 

"  Well,  just  be — -yourself,  my  boy,  and  no  such  calamity  will 
befall  you." 


30  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

They  sat  on  the  fence  a  while  longer,  listening  to  the  music, 
then  went  over  to  the  hotel,  where  Uncle  Dick  mysteriously  dis 
appeared.  It  was  rumored  that  he  stole  over  to  his  Senior  Society 
hall.  Harry  chatted  a  few  moments  with  some  Andover  men  and 
went  upstairs  to  bed.  He  had  begun  his  career  at  Yale. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    ENTRANCE    EXAMINATION. 


E  next  morning  Harry  rose  with  the 
-L  first  ray  of  the  sun  that  penetrated 
through  the  blinds  oi'  his  chamber,  high  up 
in  the  top  floor  of  the  crowded  New  Haven 
House.  It  was  a  warm  morning,  and 

O  ' 

before  he  dressed  lie  thought  he'd  just  look 
over  a  few  of  the  propositions  in  the  first 
book  of  Euclid.  Mathematics  were  not  his 
forte.  He  had  no  fears  of  his  Caesar,  his  Xenophon,  or  his  Vergil 
or  Iliad.  They  came  easily  to  the  boy,  and  Dr.  Taylor's  faithful 
and  heroic  drill  in  the  grammar  during  his  senior  year  at  Andover 
had  made  second  aorists,  ablative  absolutes,  and  pluperfect  sub 
junctives  and  the  absurd  reasons  for  using  them  a  matter  of 
indifference. 

Euclid,  algebra,  and  arithmetic,  however,  were  different.  In  the 
classic  shades  of  Phillips  Academy  they  were  left  to  take  a  second 
place.  They  were  slurred  over  and  considered  a  bore  by  Harry 
and  most  of  his  friends.  Fractions  were  all  vulgar  to  him!  They 
tormented  him.  It  was  before  the  days  of  electives,  and  it  was 
not  considered  that  the  brain  of  one  boy  differed  much  from 
another.  lie  could  choose  at  Yale,  as  at  Andover,  the  academic  or 
the  scientific  course,  but  once  he  had  made  this  election  he  must 
perforce  be  prepared  to  accept  the  cut  and  dried  curriculum 
allotted  to  him. 

The  object  of  education  was  "  mental  discipline,"  not  culture. 
This  was  the  keynote  of  the  system  of  those  days  at  Yale  and 
Andover,  and  is,  we  fear,  much  the  keynote  of  the  system  at  the 
present  time.  "  Drill  "  was  the  word,  and  mental  gymnastics  the 
object  of  recitations. 


32  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

Harry  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  bed,  poring  over  his  pons  asinorum 
and  trying  to  discover  anew  the  real  reason  that  the  angles  of  a 
right-angle  triangle  equaled  two  right  angles.  The  underlying 
point  in  his  mind  seemed  to  be — well,  and  what  if  they  did  ?  Of 
what  benefit  was  it  to  the  world  in  general?  To  render  the  study 
more  useful  to  him  he  thoughtfully  drew  the  figure  of  a  triangle 
on  the  white  Avail  of  his  room  with  a  lead  pencil,  and  stood  off  a 
few  paces  Avith  his  book  behind  his  back,  demonstrating  the 
problem. 

He  found  that  it  helped  him  a  good  deal  to  have  the  diagrams  on 
the  Avail  in  this  way.  In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  he  had  four 
more  displayed  upon  the  wall.  "  It's  as  good  as  a  blackboard,"  he 
said  to  himself. 

Just  then  came  a  tap  at  his  door.  "  Come  in,"  said  Harry,  wrap 
ping  himself  like  an  old  Roman  in  his  toga-like  sheet.  A  tall,  lank 
youth  entered  the  room,  looking  pale  and  miserable.  He  held  a 
Homer  in  one  hand  and  a  translation  or  "pony"  in  the  other. 
Around  his  head  Avas  a  Avet  towel.  He  had  the  awkward  bean 
pole  look  of  a  boyAvho  had  shot  up  and  got  his  groAvth  too  rapidly. 
His  legs  were  too  long,  his  ears  too  large,  his  hands  seemed  to 
reach  down  too  far  ;  he  had  a  sickly  grin  on  his  face  as  he  crept 
into  the  room  and  glanced  at  Harry. 

"Been  up  all  night,"  he  said,  "and  I  feel  like  a  faded  floAver. 
I  say — it's  no  fun  reading  Homer  Avhile  every  cock  in  New  Haven 
is  croAving  in  the  morn  !  It's  aAvful  dismal  Avork.  Guess  if  the 
faculty  knew  how  I've  crammed  to  get  in  they'd  say  '  we  haven't 
the  heart  to  condition  you  ! '  What  are  you  doing  ?  Say,  they'll 
charge  you  for  spoiling  those  walls  !  A  B  equals  C  D.  Let  \he 
angle  BCD  represent — oh,  it's  all  a  blank  to  me  IIOAV.  This 
Homer  has  driven  Euclid  out  of  my  head,  and  Avhen  I've  got  Euclid 
in  Xenophon  and  Homer  walk  out.  Oh,  Lord  !  I  wonder  who 
invented  examinations?"  and  he  yawned  dismally. 

"  Say,  Jim,  for  Heaven's  sake,  go  to  bed  and  get  a  feAV  hours' 
sleep  !  My  uncle  Dick  says  that  it  doesn't  pay  to  get  frightened 
beforehand.  He  told  me  that  a  good  sleep  was  the  best  prepara 
tion.  It  keeps  your  head  clear — see?" 


THE   ENTRAi\7CE   EXAM1NA  TION'. 


33 


"  Yes,  but  you  know  where  I  stood  at  Andover — I  led  the  foot. 
I  tell  you  it's  going  to  be  hard  work  for  me  to  get  into  Yale.     Oh, 


DEMONSTRATING    THE    PROBLEM. 

what  will  father  say  ?"  lie  sat  on  the  bed  and  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands. 

"Jim  Danf'orth,  brace  up,  old  man  !  You're  all  broke  up.  Go 
to  bed  now,  and  then  go  and  get  your  head  shampooed  before 
breakfast." 

"I  tried  it  once,  you  know,  last  July,  and  they  said  that  I  could 


34  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

have  one  move  trial  this  September.  I  only  failed  in — in  every 
thing  but  arithmetic,  and  so  I've  been  cramming  all  summer." 

"Well,  you're  sure  to  get  in  now.  They  always  let  in  Andover 
men.  Don't  get  discouraged.  If  you  sit  near  me  I'll  try  and  help 
you." 

"  Father  graduated  in  1844,  and  he  was  salutatorian.  You  can 
see  he  is  prejudiced  in  favor  of  the  faculty  and  against  me.  He 
thinks  I  am  a  fool." 

"  You're  not  a  fool,  Jim.  You  were  the  best  second  base  that  ever 
was  at  Andover.  Do  you  remember  that  high  fly  you  caught  on  a 
backward  run  in  the  Exeter  match?  Your  long  reach  was  just  the 
thing.  It  saved  the  game.  A  fool  !  By  Jove  !  You  may  not 
have  the  knack  for  study,  but  you're  no  fool.  You  took  second 
prize  in  the  Philomathean  prize  debate,  and  you  know  you  were 
class  marshal.  The  faculty  ought  to  know  that,  Jim."  Danforth 
looked  a  little  more  cheerful. 

"  I  haven't  any  head  for  study,"  he  said.  "But,  Harry,  you  do 
the  best  you  can  for  me  in  the  examination,  and  shy  the  answers 
over  to  me  on  a  bit  of  paper.  I  only  scraped  through  Andover 
because  you  sat  next  to  me  and  whispered  up  when  I  got  up  to 
recite.  Old  Unk  never  suspected." 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  pull  you  through  this  time,  too,  old  man  ! 
Now,  you  go  and  get  a  sleep,  and  then  get  a  good  shampoo  before 
breakfast  and  you'll  be  all  right." 

Jim  Danforth  silently  shook  him  by  the  hand  and  left  the  room, 
whistling  a  lively  air. 

"  Poor  Jim,"  laughed  Harry,  putting  another  figure  on  the  wall. 
"  It's  absurd  how  scared  he  is.  If  the  faculty  only  knew  what's 
what  they'd  let  him  in  free  and  give  him  a  medal  to  boot.  Unless 
I'm  very  much  off  he'll  go  straight  on  the  'varsity  nine — he's 
a  dandy  second  base,  a  Jim  dandy.  Reach  ?  Phew  !  how  he  can 
reach  for  a  ball !  " 

Then  he  fell  to  thinking  over  some  old  exciting  ball  matches 
at  Andover  in  the  past.  A  boy's  life  passes  rapidly,  and  the 
days  of  the  Andover  three  years  already  seemed  so  long,  so  long 


THE   ENTRANCE    EXAMINA  TION.  35 

But  he  soon  brought  himself  up  with  a  round  turn.  "Let 
ABC  equal  a  right-angle  triangle,  then  let  K  L  M  equal — 

Then  came  another  knock.  His  uncle  Dick  entered,  looking 
very  seedy  and  cross.  He  had  a  shawl  wrapped  about  him. 

Harry  burst  out  into  uncontrollable  laughter  as  he  glanced  at 
him.  Uncle  Dick  scowled. 

"What  are  you  up  to,  you  rascal?  Diagrams  on  the  walls? 
They'll  raise  Cain  over  that  !  " 

"  I'll  rub  'era  out,"  said  Harry.  "  But  tell  me,  where  did  you 
disappear  to  last  night,  Uncle  Dick?" 

Harry  stood  grinning  knowingly. 

"  Xever  you  mind,  you  scapegrace  !  "  he  said  grimly. 

Harry  laughed  again. 

"  Go  down  and  tell  them  to  send  me  up  two  bottles  of  soda 
water  and  a  lemon,  that's  a  good  boy.  I  feel  like  a  'biled  owl,' 
as  Arternus  Ward  says.  I  can't  make  the  servants  hear.  They 
pay  no  attention  to  the  bell.  Get  dressed,  Harry,  and  go  down. 
You'll  save  my  life  ! " 

And  Uncle  Dick  returned  to  his  room. 

Harry  good-naturedly  did  as  he  was  told.  lie  dressed  and  went 
downstairs.  Selecting  a  Vergil  and  a  small  Latin  lexicon  for  his 
vade  mecum,  he  sent  the  soda  water  up  to  his  uncle,  whom  he  sus 
pected  of  being  out  all  night  at  his  senior  secret  society  "  spread," 
and  strolled  out  in  the  fresh  dewy  morning  over  to  the  campus. 

No  one  was  on  the  fence  and  so  he  sat  down,  his  Vergil  on  one 
knee  and  his  lexicon  on  the  other.  lie  saw  students  on  their  way 
to  breakfast  looking  at  him  askance,  and  heard  some  of  them  make 
unsavory  remarks  about  him. 

"  Why,  it's  only  a  sub-fresh  anyway,"  said  one  young  man  ;  "  let 
him  sit  there." 

A  little  after  a  number  of  sophomores  came  along. 

"  Git— freshy  !"  they  cried. 

"Git— where?" 

"  Get  off  the  fence  !  It's  no  place  for  you.  Only  gentlemen  are 
allowed  to  sit  here.  Git  !  " 

At   first  Harry  refused   to  budge,  but  at  last    sullenly  obeyed. 


36  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

He  strolled  into  the  campus  and  walked  over  to  the  Art  building 
meditatively,  and  reading  his  Vergil  and  conning  the  lines. 

He  was  a  handsome,  well  set  up  lad.  As  he  made  his  way  along, 
book  in  hand,  t\vo  or  three  pretty  shop  girls  came  down  Chapel 
Street  on  their  way  to  their  store.  All  smiled  and  nodded  in  the 
most  familiar  manner. 

Harry  bowed  politely  and  took  off  his  hat.  One  of  the  girls— 
the  prettiest  of  the  three— looked  back  at  him  and  smiled  again. 

He  took  off  his  hat  again  to  her. 
One  could  see  the  innocence  and 
the  gentleness  of  his  act,  as  com 
pared    with    the    naughtiness    and 
forwardness  of  the  pretty  shop  girls. 
When  he  went  back  to  the  hotel 
his  uncle  Avas  awaiting  him  to   go 
in  to  breakfast.     After   the  noisy 
meal  was  over  he  said  : 
"  Are  you  frightened  ?" 
"Oh,  no." 

"  Well,  I'll  walk  over  with  you. 
I'll  speak  to  Professor  Sinister — one 
of  the  dearest,  nicest  men — after 
graduation — I  ever  knew." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  of  passing  in 
everything.  Don't  boot-lick  any 
one  for  me,  Uncle  Dick.  There 
was  really  no  need  to  put  you  to  the  trouble  of  coming  on  with 
me.  It  was  mother's  being  worried." 

"  Well,  you  can't  start  too  well  with  the  faculty,"  said  his  uncle. 
"  You  want  to  try  and  get  them  prejudiced  in  your  favor.  They  are 
generally  prejudiced  the  other  way.  They  regard  a  boy  as  bad  until 
he  proves  he's  good.  Now  that's  just  where  I  come  in.  I'll  steer  Pro 
fessor  Sinister  and  Professor  Black  the  right  way.  I'll  make  them 
think  you're  a  sort  of  a  hardworking  dig,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
I'll  try  and  persuade  them  that  you  are  a  natural  student — but  a 
little  timid  in  recitation — afraid  to  let  out  all  you  know  of  a  subject." 


THEN  CAMP:  ANOTHER  KNOCK. 


THE   ENTRANCE   EXAMINATION.  37 

Harry  laughed.  "They'll  soon  find  out  I've  got  the  cheek  of  a 
rhinoceros — then  they'll  think  me  right  and  left !  "  They  fell  in 
with  a  number  of  Andover  men,  and  walked  over  to  Alumni  Hall. 
Before  this  awful,  gloomy  building,  with  its  twin  forbidding 
towers  surmounted  by  wooden  moldings  to  look  like  stone,  were 
gathered  that  morning  about  sixty  trembling  sub-freshmen.  A 
majority  of  the  incoming  class  had  entered  in  July.  Some  of  the 
boys  were  accompanied  by  tutors  who  were  cramming  last  instruc 
tions  into  their  heads,  but  most  of  them  were  alone. 

Standing  over  by  Durfce  was  a  fellow  working  away  at  his 
Xenophon  and  "pony,"  with  pale  face  and  anxious  eagerness.  It 
was  poor  Danforth.  lie  had  several  books  under  his  arm,  and 
now  and  then  he  would  take  a  peep  into  one  and  the  other  in  turn 
to  refresh  his  memory.  On  the  ground  before  him  was  an  open 
Caesar  ;  he  kept  the  book  open  with  his  foot,  and  on  either  side 
were  text-books  and  grammars.  He  looked  brighter  and  fresher 
than  he  had  done  at  six  o'clock  that  morning  when  he  went  into 
Harry's  room,  for  he  had  gotten  some  sleep  and  had  a  shampoo, 
but  he  was  dreadfully  worried,  poor  fellow,  and  he  was  much  too 
engrossed  with  his  book  to  notice  the  laughter  lie  excited. 

Talk  of  the  delights  of  Yale  to  Danforth  !  lie  was  undergoing 
then — as  he  underwent  all  through  his  college  course  at  examina 
tion  periods — the  pangs  of  Hades. 

A  little  wav  over  by  North  College  was  a  curious  couple  walk 
ing  to  and  fro.  They  excited  little  attention  because  they  were 
far  out  of  the  throng  of  busy,  talkative  young  "subs  "who  were 
eying  one  another  with  great  interest  as  members  of  the  coming 
class  of  "  ITmpty-four." 

One  of  them  seemed  to  be  a  tall  spectacled  New  England  old 
maid,  the  other,  quite  as  tall,  a  slender  New  England  over-studious 
youth.  He  was  pale,  but  his  eyes  were  bright  ;  he  had  the  acute 
air  of  an  intellectual  "  smart  boy."  He  carried  no  books,  no  imple 
ments.  He  had  a  very  sweet,  yet  amused,  condescending  smile. 
lie  chatted  and  laughed  with  his  maiden  friend,  and  every  now  and 
then  he  glanced  over  at  the  crowd  before  Alumni  Hall,  as  if  impa 
tient  to  have  the  fun  beir'm.  If  one  could  have  overheard  them — 


38  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

they  were  gossiping  upon  the  state  of  Rome  under  Marcus  Aure- 
lius  !  Presently  they  came  nearer  the  Hall,  and  stood  idly  watch 
ing  the  young  fellows,  who  were  now  rapidly  increasing  in 
number. 

"  David,  be  meek  ;  don't  be  too  impatient,"  said  the  spinster. 
She  had  taken  his  arm. 

"  I  will  be  meek,  but  I'd  like  to  show  these  classical' Pharisees 
that  a  man  doesn't  need  to  come  down  from  Andover,  or  Exeter, 
or  East  Hampton,  or  St.  Paul's,  to  know  Greek  and  Latin,  or  even 
mathematics " 

"  But  you  can  show  them  later.  First  impressions  count,  you 
know." 

"  I  know  it,  Aunt  Sarah,  I  will  be  meek.  What  a  lot  of  chil 
dren  !  "  He  glanced  about.  "  I  mean  intellectual  children.  I 
suppose  every  man-child  here  could  physically  thrash  me  !  Why, 
I  believe  there  are  some  here  who  may  fail." 

"  Oh,  impossible — Xenophon — Caesar  ?  Nonsense.  Infantile 
minds  perhaps,  and  fond  of  foolish  sport  and  play — but  they  can't 
help  passing  !  " 

"Aunt  Sarah"  speedily  became  an  attraction.  She  wore  a 
curious  up-country  dress,  but  her  glance  was  keen  as  lightning. 
"  Here's  a  milksop's  brought  his  mother  to  college  with  him  ! " 
laughed  a  friend  of  Harry's,  in  an  aside. 

At  a  distance  was  another  group  in  which  this  was  literally  the 
case.  A  young,  soft-looking  boy  was  kissing  his  mother  and 
sister  good-by.  His  father  stood  by  and  whispered  encourage 
ment.  His  mother  was  in  tears.  His  sister  clung  tightly  to  him. 
It  would  appear  that  they  believed  he  was  about  to  undergo  some 
sort  of  horrid  torture.  The  chapel  bell  tolled.  Every  stroke 
seemed  to  fall  with  crushing  weight  upon  the  boy,  as  indeed  it  did 
also  upon  poor  Danforth  opposite.  Several  professors  and  one  or 
two  tutors  appeared,  and  with  a  curious  celerity  slipped  through 
the  crowd  and  threw  open  the  great  doors  of  Yale  to  Umpty-four 
with  the  bland  smile  Danforth  thought  he  had  often  seen  on  the 
face  of  a  dentist.  "  Gentlemen,"  said  they,  "  it  is  necessary  first 
to  pay  to  the  treasurer  a  fee  of  ten  dollars." 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    YALE    SPIRIT. 

| TIT  the  results  of  the  examination,  which  lasted 
two  days,  were  not  as  painful  to  Danforth  as  he 
had  imagined.  He  got  a  table  next  to  Harry's, 
and  the  latter  snapped  over  to  him  small  bits  of 
paper  containing  the  answers  to  some  of  the  more  difficult  problems 
in  algebra  and  geometry.  He  had  the  luck  to  hit  just  the  passages 
in  Xenophon  and  Vergil  he  knew.  As  for  Harry — it  was  child's 
play  to  him.  He  loafed  through  the  morning  and  devoted  him 
self  chiefly  to  steering  Danforth  through  his  difficulties.  It  was 
hard  work,  and  once  he  thought  Professor  Sinister's  eagle  and 
detective  eye  was  fixed  upon  him,  but  it  wasn't  fixed  to  his 
detriment.  Once  he  gave  up  all  hope  ;  he  was  sure  he  was 
caught.  Professor  Black  got  slowly  down  from  his  desk  and 
marched  with  terrible  tread  straight  across  the  room,  down  the 
aisle  to  his  table.  His  heart  stood  still.  The  glum  portraits  of 
the  former  presidents  of  Yale  on  the  walls  swam  before  him. 
When  he  reached  him  Professor  Black  said  with  a  keen  incisiveness  : 

"Your  uncle  was  a  classmate  of  mine." 

Oh,  what  a  relief  ! 

"  Yes,  sir  ?  " 

"  He  says  }TOU  are  one  of  the  best  boys  that  ever  came  to  Yale. 
I'm  afraid  you  are  given  to  mischief." 

"Oli,  no,' sir." 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  fire  paper  balls  at  my  fellow  students,"  and 
he  passed  on  with  a  certain  deadly  smile,  while  Harry  shivered. 

Professor  Sinister  was  kind  and  genial,  with  a  gently  amused 
smile.  Harry  felt  that  he  would  be  a  good  friend  always.  Pro 
fessor  Shepard  was  the  kindest  of  all  and  had  the  most  sincere 


4°  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

smile.  How  different  they  seemed  from  the  scowling  severity  of 
Dr.  Taylor  !  The  several  tutors  seemed  so  pleasant  arid  jolly. 
Their  smiles  were  even  affectionate  !  lie  was  a  little  afraid  of  the 
keenness  of  Professor  Black's  sharp  little  black  eyes,  but  Professor 
Maynard  (the  distinguished  author  of  Maynard's  Arithmetics)  was, 
though  stiff  and  prim,  and  carrying  his  head  above  his  high  choker 
collar,  the  best  smiler  of  them  all.  lie  reminded  Harry  of  a  print 
of  an  old  beau  in  an  old  magazine.  The  boy  wondered  if  the  great 
man  was  solving  arithmetical  problems  in  that  courtly  old  head  of 
his.  "  Fractions  are  plain  figures  to  him,"  he  thought.  "I'd  like 
to  hear  him  talk  about  his  rule  of  three."  There  was  a  vague  idea 
in  his  mind  that  he  was  the  author  of  it. 

After  the  examinations  were  over  the  second  day,  Jack  Rives, 
who  had  passed  in  July,  met  him  at  the  door  witli  his  uncle  and 
they  walked  over  to  their  rooms  on  York  Street.  Harry  had  been 
too  busy  to  go  over  and  see  them. 

"Why,  the  examination  was  nothing  at  all,"  said  Harry  lightly, 
"and  I  had  lots  of  time  and  helped  Dan  forth  through  the  hard 
places  all  right.  You  ought  to  have  seen  Dan  this  morning,  Jack  ; 
frightened  to  death  !  Now  he's  in,  he's  sure  of  the  'varsity,  I 
guess." 

"  Oli,  lord,  yes,"  said  Jack  Rives.  "  He  could  feel  around  in 
the  air  after  a  fly  ball  with  his  eyes  shut  and  pull  it  down.  I've 
seen  him  talking  to  a  man  an'  hear  a  ball  coming  an'  reach  out 
backward  an'  not  look  at  it,  and  haul  it  in.  In  your  day  did  they 
have  baseball,  Uncle  Dick  ?" 

All  Harry's  friends  got  to  calling  him  "Uncle  Dick  "  unawares. 

"No,  we  had  cricket — a  little." 

"A  beastly  stupid  game,  isn't  it?  Takes  all  day  and  part  of 
next  week.  You  never  know  for  a  week  of  Sundays  how  the  game 
came  out." 

"  We  used  to  take  loni*  walks." 

O 

"Long  walks  !  yes— with  girls,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Oh,  no;  we  walked,  three  or  four  of  us  together,  climbed 
East  Rock,  or  sometimes  got  a  fast  nag  and  drove  over  to  Bridge 
port  to  a  dog  fight.  I  was  the  best  billiard  player  in  my  class." 


THE    YALE    SPIRIT.  41 

"  All  that  sort  of  thing  has  gone  out  now,"  said  Harry.  "  Frist 
trotters  and  billiards  and  all  that." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  billiards  are  as  popular  now  as  in  my  day,  but  you 
don't  see  men  betting  so  much  on  billiards  now.  I've  seen  one 
thousand  dollars  depend  on  a  stroke.  There  were  two  great 
players  in  my  day,  rmTself  and — and  a  man  by  the  name  of  Allick, 
from  Cincinnati,  since  dead.  He  and  I  fought  many  a  match  in 
those  old  days.  He  paid  his  way  through  college  by  billiards  ;  it 
was  as  good  as  a  scholarship." 

"Say,  is  Uncle  Dick  a  'sport'  now  ?  "  asked  Jack  Rives,  in  a 
whisper,  of  Harry.  "  Is  he  an  old  gambler  ?  " 

"  Heavens,  no  !  He's  a  sober,  rich,  steady  lawyer  in  New 
York.  He  never  has  any  fun  except  when  he  comes  back  to  New 
Haven.  But  I  guess  he  must  have  had  all  his  good  times  here  ;  he 
likes  to  talk  about  it  so  much." 

They  came  to  a  wide,  two-story  frame  house  on  York  Street, 
where  Rives  had  got  rooms.  The  landlady  was  a  sad-eyed,  middle- 
aged  woman,  with  her  gray  hair  done  up  in  fronts.  She  looked  as 
though  she  had  been  through  considerable  trouble  in  her  day  for 
and  on  account  of  freshmen.  Her  little  eyes  were  steely  gray  and 
snappish  and  suspicious.  She  suspected  any  and  every  male  being 
under  twenty  and  over  fifteen  of  an  inordinate  love  of  tricks  and 
all  manner  and  kind  of  wickedness.  She  opened  the  door  on  a 
crack  at  first,  as  if  it  were  a  usual  precautionary  measure  ;  then 
peeped  out  and  saw  who  it  was,  and  let  them  in. 

"Oh,  it's  Mr.  Rives.  Oh,  I  thought  mebbe  it  was  some  o' them 
softmores,  not  knowin'  yer  faces  all.  I  never  allow  none  of  them 
in  my  house.  My  friend  Professor  Shepard  told  me  not  to.  My 
friend  Professor  Shepard  says  that  I  keep  the  quietist  and  best 
house  in  New  Haven  in  consequence." 

"  All  right,  Mrs.  Gimly,"  said  Rives,  leading  the  way  in,  and  they 
passed  upstairs. 

"  I've  been  here  two  days  fixing  up,"  said  Jack,  rather  proud  of 
what  he  had  done,  as  he  glanced  round  the  large,  low-ceilinged 
room.  He  had  arranged  four  new  boxing  gloves,  in  the  way  of 
plaques,  over  the  mantel.  On  either  side  were  two  sporting  pictures 


42  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

of  Messrs.  Dooney  Harris  and  Patsey  Sheppard,  the  then  ornaments 
of. the  prize  ring.  Then  see  this,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  dog  kennel 
in  one  corner  of  the  room,  out  of  which  was  emitted  a  lo\v,  angry 
growl.  "Here,  Stamp  !  come  out,  you  rascal  !  I  got  him  in  New 
York  of  a  friend,  and  we'll  have  to  pay  Mrs.  Gimly  three  dollars 
a  week  extra  for  being  allowed  to  keep  him.  Oh,  he's  a  dandy  ! 
I'm  going  to  name  him  Stamp  because  I  have  to  lick  him  so  much  ; 
but  he's  a  dandy  !  " 

"  Mr.  Gradley  wanted  to  sell  me  a  dog  last  night,"  said  Harry 
thoughtfully. 

"  Well,  our  dog  can  lay  out  any  New  Haven  dog  of  Gradley's  or 
anyone  else's.  He's  a  terror.  He  never  lets  go.  He's  got  my 
best  trousers  in  his  kennel  now,  and  I  can't  get  'em  away  from 
him." 

Uncle  Dick  burst  out  laughing,  and  the  dog,  hearing  a  new  voice 
and  feeling  provoked  at  it,  made  a  rush  out  of  the  kennel,  still 
holding  the  trousers  in  his  strong,  ugly  mouth. 

He  had  the  beautiful  ugliness,  the  ugly  mug  of  a  full-blooded  bull. 
Harry  fell  on  his  knees  before  him  and  petted  him.  Strange  to  say 
Stamp  dropped  the  trousers  and  licked  his  face,  wagging  his  stumpy 
tail  affectionately. 

"  You've  got  a  good  room  here,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  "  and  you're 
right  in  the  center  of  freshman  life.  Most  of  the  rushes  are  on 
York  or  High  Streets,  behind  the  colleges.  When  you're  in 
college  be  in  college — be  in  the  thick  of  it.  But  from  this  dog — 
and  all — to  protect  you  merely,  Mr.  Rives — do  you  know  I'm  afraid 
that — I'm  afraid  you  have  come  to  college  with  a  wrong  purpose." 

Uncle  Dick  spoke  very  earnestly,  and  looked  solemn. 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  You  intend  to  study  too  hard — to  shut  yourself  up  here  and 
pore  over  your  books  too  much." 

"  Oh,  no,  sir,"  said  Rives  innocently. 

"  Yes,  you  do  ;  and  that  bar  on  the  door — you  mean  to  sport  the 
oak,  I  see." 

"  Oh,  that's  in  case  we  get  chased  in  by  the  sophs,  that's  all," 
said  Rives.  "  It's  something  the  fellow  that  had  the  room  before 


THE    YALE    SPIRIT. 


43 


me  put  on  the  door.     First-rate  idea,  isn't  it?     With  that  on  you 
can't  break  in." 

And  Jack  shut  the  door  and  pulled  the  heavy  oaken  timber  into 
place. 

There  came  a  thump,  and  he  opened  it  again.  In  rushed  five  or 
six  friends — Thornton,  Coles,  Hitch,  Nevers,  and  others,  all  Andover 
men,  who  roomed  in  the 
house. 

"  How  did  you  get 
through,  Harry  ?  " 

"  First-rate.  Easy  as 
mud.  Look  out,  fellows  ! 
Stamp  may  object."  lie  in 
troduced  his  friends  to  his 
uncle  —  "  an  old  grad." 
Harry  sat  on  the  floor  ;  the 
dog  and  he  had  suddenly 
developed  the  most  interest 
ing  friendship. 

"  Boys,"  said  Uncle  Dick, 
"  won't  you  all  smoke  with 


,.9" 


JACK   UIVKS     I'ET. 


lie  offered  around  a  hand 
ful  of  fine  cigars  ;  all  but  one 
came  back  to  him.  lie  seemed  rather  surprised,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Professor  Sinister  told  me  you  would  have  a  very  large  class. 
Perhaps  150  ;  you  ought  to  have  it  pretty  much  your  own  way 
with  Umpty-three.  They'll  snatch  your  caps.  Well,  snatch  theirs, 
then  !  I'm  a  thoroughgoing  Yale  boy  myself.  Fight  fair,  but 
fight  like  the  devil,  is  what  I  say.  There  is  no  part  of  a  man's  life 
so  pleasant  as  the  four  years  at  college,  and  I'm  not  prepared  to 
say  that  the  first  year  isn't  the  best." 

Thornton  was  a  stocky  big  fellow,  with  muscles  of  iron.  Uncle 
Dick  looked  him  over  admiringly. 

"You  ought  to  go  in  for  the  crew,"  he  said.  "We've  been, 
beaten  every  year  but  one  since  '06.  Harvard  has  got  it  all  her 


44  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

own  way.  Oh,  it's  terrible  for  an  old  graduate  to  pick  up  a  paper 
and  read  about  the  Harvard  crew  winning  by  six  boat-lengths 
every  summer  !  It  makes  me  feel  like  going  into  college  again 
and  taking  hold.  By  Jove  !  sooner  than  see  Harvard  win  the  way 
she's  been  doing,  you,  Thornton,  and  you,  strong,  young  fellows, 
all  of  you,  ought  to  go  in  and  pull  your  hearts  out." 

Uncle  Dick  had  risen  in  his  excitement  and  there  was  an  impres 
sive  silence. 

"  By  all  that's  true,  it  rests  with  you  to  do  it  !  You  can  if  you 
will.  Don't  let  this  disgrace  go  on  year  after  year.  Put  some  of 
the  old  Yale  spirit  and  Yale  sand  into  your  boating  and  baseball. 
Confound  it,  Harry,  you  are  all  new  to  it  and  don't  feel  the  dis 
grace  !  I  do.  I  get  chaffed  by  Harvard  men  every  day  in  New 
York.  I — I — I  can't  stand  it.  I  care  so  much  for  Yale  it's — it's 
just  like  my  family  to  me.  I'd  give  every  cent  in  the  world — 
when  I  die  every  cent  is  going  to  Yale  anyway — but  we  must  have 
a  victory  next  year,  I — I " 

These  impressionable,  honest,  hearty  young  fellows  each  shook 
his  hand.  It  seemed  as  if  a  sudden  intelligence  had  dawned  upon 
them,  a  sudden  awakening  into  the  Yale  spirit. 

When  he  went  out,  agreeing  to  meet  Harry  at  dinner,  the  latter 
said  :  "  He's  the  best  old  fellow  in  the  world.  I  believe  the  only 
thing  he  thinks  of  is  his  law  and  Yale.  It's  queer  how  excited  he 
gets  ;  it's  a  religion  to  him." 

"  And  he's  right,"  said  Thornton  warmly.     "  I  like  him  for  it." 

"He  was  the  bully  of  his  class — and  wooden  spoon,"  said  Harry. 
"  A  Yale  man  to  the  core.  I  believe  he'd  like  to  be  buried  in  the 
campus  under  the  old  elms  !  " 

He  bade  his  uncle  good-by  that  evening  after  discovering,  to  his 
chagrin — Mr.  Lyman  got  one  of  the  professors  to  tell  him — that  he 
would  probably  be  conditioned  in  Latin  and  arithmetic,  but  that  he 
was  otherwise  through  his  entrance  examination  creditably  enough. 

Harry  was  so  surprised  he  was  unable  to  speak.  "  You  were  so 
cocksure,"  said  his  uncle,  "  I  was  afraid  you'd  slip  up." 

.  "  Latin  !  "  exclaimed  Harry,  provoked,  "  my  stronghold  ! — and 
Vergil  of  all  things  !  " 


THE    YALE    SPIRIT. 


45 


"Oil,  well,  go  to  \vork  now  ;  study  hard,  and  work  the  condi 
tions  off.  Play  hard,  tight  hard,  be  a  man,  and  you'll  be  popular. 
You're  a  Delta  Kap  man,  remember." 

"So  are  you,  you  dear  old  fellow!"  said  Harry,  shaking  his 
hand  at  the  station.  They  both  laughed,  and  the  bell  rang  I'or  the 
cars  to  start. 

"  Well,  Harry,  you  know  I've  never  married,  and,  my  dear  boy, 
you're  my  boy.  If  you  want  extra  money  send  to  me  ;  don't 
badger  your  poor  mother.  I've  arranged  to  have  all  the  faculty's 
letters  sent  to  my  office.  Oh,  don't  start  ;  they'll  come,  and  I  dare 
say  you'll  be  suspended  and  all  that.  But  your  mother  mustn't 
have  any  of  these  worries.  Now,  if  you  get  in  a  scrape  you  know 
whom  to  come  to.  Good-by  !  " 

I  [any  stood  a  moment  as  the  train  went  off,  and  made  his  way 
thoughtfully  back  to  his  room  in  York  Street.  "I  get  into  any 
scrape  !  "  he  repeated  disdainfully.  "I  guess  notf" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION. 

TjlVERY  hour  of  the  day  carried  an 
lU  engagement.  There  was  much  to  do 
getting  acquainted  with  so  many  new  fel 
lows,  seeing  so  many  new  things  of  in 
terest — the  boathouse,  the  harbor,  the  town, 
Hamilton  Park,  where  the  ball  ground  was, 
learning  the  ropes  about  college  and  the 
recitation  rooms.  The  class  was  to  be 
divided  into  four  alphabetical  divisions.  He 
was  in  the  first  and  his  chum  in  the  third.  He  consoled  Rives  with 
the  remark  that  in  the  ensuing  term  they  would  both  be  together, 
probably  in  the  fourth  division,  for  then  they  were  to  be  divided 
according  to  standing.  He  found  with  surprise  that  he  would  be 
obliged  to  study,  and  study  pretty  hard,  too. 

His  first  week  was  one  of  disenchantment  in  the  recitation  room. 
College  life  was  not  to  be  all  glees  and  good  suppers,  moonlight  and 
romance,  oh,  no.  Professor  Black  had  flunked  him  dead  twice  in 
Greek.  His  stand  in  that  must  be  'way  below  zero.  Four  was 
perfect,  but  no  one  ever  was  known  to  get  over  3.40,  at  best  ;  two 
was  average,  and  if  below  that  at  the  end  of  a  week  or  so,  a  fellow 
was  warned  ;  then  if  he  didn't  improve,  or  his  other  studies  did 
not  bring  him  up,  he  was  incontinently  and  mercilessly  dropped  ! 

Harry  thought  that  once  in  college — through  the  entrance 
examination — all  a  fellow  had  to  do  was  to  look  wise,  study  a  little, 
and  amuse  himself  a  great  deal.  By  George  !  "  it  meant  a  lot  of 
mighty  hard  study  !  "  he  wrote  his  sister,  "  and  with  small  room 
for  any  fun."  The  boys  were  both  scared  after  the  first  few  days 
of  Professor  Black's  keen  and  scathing  sarcasms  and  Professor 

46 


DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION.  47 

Walker's  snappy  recitations  in  Euclid.  It  was  so  deuced  easy  to 
flunk  !  It  had  never  been  so  easy  at  Andover,  even  under  Dr. 
Taylor.  He  became  a  faded,  fat  old  angel  to  them.  Yet  at 
Andover — how  they  feared  him  ! 

"  How  good  he  always  was  to  us,"  said  Rives  one  night,  as  with 
coats  off  they  were  boning  down  to  their  work  and  Stamp  was 
lying  in  his  kennel,  blinking  out  of  his  one  never-closed  eye,  and 
wondering  if  he  was  to  be  owned  by  a  damned  "  dig"  after  all  and 
never  to  have  any  fun  ?  "  How  good  and  kind  link  was  in 
recitation.  lie  was  terribly  severe,  but  never  got  off  any  sarcasms 
on  a  fellow.  Black  is  so  icy  cold  !  He  takes  all  the  life  out  of  a 
man.  He  tries  his  best  to  flunk  you,  not  to  teach  you  anything." 

"  He  has  the  ingenuity  of  the  devil  !  "  groaned  Harry,  looking 
up,  "  he  flunked  me  to-day  when  he  had  no  business  to.  I  knew 
the  lesson,  and,  by  Jove,  he  saw  it  and  he  jumped  back  and  asked 
me  a  lot  of  questions  on  our  first  day's  grammar  lesson  !  Of  course 
I  flunked,  and  he  smiled  like  a  fiend  at  me." 

Harry  dug  away  at  his  lexicon  vexedly. 

"  There  was  a  good  grind  on  me  yesterday,"  said  Jack,  in  a 
melancholy  voice.  "  He  asked  me  what  was  the  difference  between 
OIJTO?  and  OVTCJ? — pronoun  and  adverb.  Of  course,  if  I  hadn't 
been  fascinated  by  his  dreadful  eyes,  I  would  have  answered  all 
right,  but  I  stammered  like  a  fool,  '  one's  singular — the  other 
plural  !  '  The  whole  class  laughed,  and  Black  remarked,  in  his 
cutting  way,  after  evervone  was  quiet  :  '  Possibly,  Mr.  Rives,  you 
have  only  your  English,  translation  before  you.'  " 

Harry  laughed. 

"  And  Latin  prose  is  beastly  stuff,  isn't  it  ?  link  never  gave  us 
much  of  it — it  isn't  fit  for  gentlemen  !  " 

"And  to  think,"  said  Harry,  "that  I've  made  that  grand  old 
man  many  a  night  chase  me  down  Andover  hill  lickety  split,  he 
gaining  every  stride,  for  he  could  run  like  the  wind — downhill. 
Then,  when  I  was  afraid  he'd  lay  his  hand  on  me,  I  jumped  a  wall, 
and  I  had  link  dead,  for  lie  couldn't  climb  for  a  cent  ;  and  then  I 
would  hide  in  the  grass  and  chirrup  to  the  dear  old  fellow.  Ah, 
dear  old  link,  you  were  a  gentleman  !  " 


48  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

"  He  tried  to  teach,  but  here  they  try  to  flunk  you.  Well,  I 
hope  it  won't  be  so  as  we  go  on.  Perhaps  it's  only  because  we  are 
freshmen." 

"  I  wonder  if  it  was  so  in  Uncle  Dick's  time  ?  I  guess  he  forgets 
the  recitations  and  thinks  only  of  the  good  times  he  had." 

The  usual   freshman   rains  set  in  for  two  days,  and  beyond  a 


Delta  Kappa  Hall. 

ft-<MA*S 


You  will  be  waited 
upon  in  your  room,  at  7  o'clock  this 
evening,  to  Iz  initiated  into  the  mys 
teries  of  the  Delta  Kappa  Fraternity. 
By  order  of  the  Committee. 


certain  amount  of  cap-snatching  everything  was  very  quiet. 
Caswell,  Holland,  and  a  lot  of  sophomores  had  a  swell  eating  club 
near  by,  and  walked  down  four  abreast,  in  lordly  swagger,  past 
their  room  every  day.  Once  Harry  bowed  to  Caswell  out  of  the 
window.  Caswell  stared  and  cut  him  dead.  He  had  known  one  or 


DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION.  49 

two  sophomores  at  Andover  and  also  several  juniors.  They  all  cut 
him  when  they  happened  to  pass  him.  lie  was  undergoing  the 
"  discipline  "  of  first  term  freshman  year  and  becoming  properly 
chastened. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  they  were  notified  of  their  election  by 
solemn  invitations  printed  in  deep  black  borders,  and  advised  to 
attend  Delta  Kappa  Hall  at  prompt  seven  o'clock  the  following 
day.  The  day  was  Saturday. 

When  Harry  and  Jack  presented  themselves,  by  advice  of 
friends,  in  their  old  clothes,  at  Delta  Kap  Hall,  then  on  Chapel 
Street  below  Church,  it  was  a  quarter  to  four.  They  were  at  once 
taken  up  on  the  roof,  where  they  found  at  least  fifty  Umpty-i'our 
men  in  waiting. 

"  Do  you  know  why  they  herd  us  up  here  so  early  ?  "  said  Thorn 
ton.  "It's  because  they're  afraid  the  juniors  and  seniors  will  steal 
us.  Any  freshman  who  will  put  up  a  dinner  at  Gradley's  can  get 
in  without  being  initiated.  The  juniors  or  seniors  will  rush  him 
right  in.  I  had  a  chance  to,  but  I  refused.  I'm  not  afraid,  and 
I'm  so  big  they  can't  hurt  me,  though  they  do  say  a  man  was  killed 
in  Delta  Kap  two  or  three  years  ago." 

It  is  presumable  that  Thornton  threw  this  out  merely  to  encour 
age  some  of  the  weaker  neophytes.  No  death,  oh,  fond  parental 
heart,  has  ever  been  known  to  occur  at  Yale,  purely  from  an 
initiation. 

It  grew  dusk,  then  dark.  The  number  of  f reshrnen  now  amounted 
to  about  fifty-eight.  There  were  about  twenty  absent.  These 
had  probably  been  "stolen,"  Thornton  said,  by  upper-class  men. 

The}"  were  ushered  presently  down  into  a  dark  garret  under  the 
roof,  and  made  to  sit  there  in  hot,  sweating  suspense  for  an  hour. 
Then  it  was  evident  the  fun  was  about  to  begin.  The}7  fancied 
they  could  hear  below  them  horns  blown  and  shouts  of  fiendish 
glee.  Names  were  called  out  of  the  darkness,  and  freshmen  began 
to  disappear  to  their  doom.  It  was  actually  terrifying.  The  initia 
tion  had  begun  in  earnest.  One  by  one  their  ranks  were  thinning 
out.  A  soph  in  the  costume  of  Mephisto  stood  at  the  door  and 
kept  order. 


50  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

Harry,  Rives,  Nevers,  Coles,  Danforth,  Thornton,  and  a  lot  of 
fellows  were  all  sitting  close  to  each  other  on  the  floor  in  the  dark, 
waiting.  The  door  opened  quickly,  a  blast  of  hot,  gassy  air  came 
up. 

"John  Carrington  Rives,"  bawled  out  a  gruff  voice  into  the  dark 
ness.  It  sounded  a  little  like  Caswell's,  disguised. 

"  Present  ! " 

"Henery  Walcot  Chestleton." 

"  Present  !  " 

"  Come  this  way  !  " 

Then  in  an  aside  to  someone  outside  : 

"Let  'em  go  up  together,  Bill.  Two  such  cats  I  never  saw. 
They'll  claw  each  other  to  bits  in  the  blanket — more  fun  for  the 
boys  ! " 

"All  right.  Men  whose  names  are  called  come  forward  faster, 
will  you  ! " 

The  two  terrified,  boyish  freshmen  went  to  the  door,  where  there 
streamed  in  a  brilliant  light.  Within  the  room  whence  they  came 
was  darkness,  typical  of  the  intellectual  chaos  before  entering 
"Jolly  D.  K."  The  light  flashed  into  the  garret  and  lit  up  the 
thirty  or  forty  who  were  left.  A  beautiful  ultramarine  hue  per 
vaded  the  very  darkness  about  them.  "Men!"  The}r  were  fair, 
beardless  boys,  most  of  them,  fresh  from  loving  mothers  and  gentle 
homes.  Here  and  there  was  an  incipient  mustache.  A  few  had 
beards.  All  were  pale  with  the  heat  and  expectancy,  stifling  in 
that  miserable  den  under  the  hot  roof;  but  it  didn't  matter,  they 
were  soon  to  be  hustled  into  "Jolly  D.  K.,"  and  all  would  be  well  ! 
They  had  kept  their  spirits  up  by  telling  awful  stories  of  men 
who  had  been  killed  while  undergoing  the  ordeal  of  the  gridiron. 
"Roasted  to  death  by  accident  is  no  fun,"  said  Danforth,  who  was 
a  wag  in  everything  but  baseball  and  examinations.  "Sometimes 
they  let  you  go  by  accident,  and  your  flesh  smells  of  burnt  steak 
for  a  week.  I  had  a  cousin  who  had  a  brother-in-law  who  was  com 
pelled  to  live  the  rest  of  his  life  in  a  flour  barrel  after  a  D.  K. 
initiation." 

"  Silence  !     Freshman  !  "    growled  Mephisto  at  the  door. 


DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION.  51 

Poor  freshmen  !  you  could  almost  hear  their  teeth  chatter. 

Harry  and  Jack,  as  soon  as  they  stepped  to  the  door,  were  seized 
from  behind  and  walked  quickly  into  a  little  room  lit  by  a  single 
candle.  The  candle  stood  on  a  desk,  in  front  of  an  open  book. 
Behind  the  desk  sat  a  huge  blinking  owl,  with  great  yellow  eyes. 
It  was  more  than  enough  to  frighten  a  saint. 

"  Sign  !  "  chanted  the  owl. 

They  each  signed  the  book  tremblingly. 

"  Raise  your  right  legs  !  "  cried  the  owl. 

They  tried  to  ;  it  was  awkward,  but  they  succeeded.  The  owl 
then  read  off  a  lot  of  rigmarole  promises  to  obey  the  orders,  to  keep 
secret  what  transpired,  to  pay  dues,  to  do  all  they  possibly  could 
to  injure  all  other  freshmen  societies,  and  chiefly  to  worship  the 
glorious  class  of  Umpty-three. 

"  Swe-e-e-a-a-a-r  !  "  cried  the  owl. 

They  swore  and  kissed  the  book,  being  warned  to  still  stand  and 
hop  about  on  one  leg,  under  the  most  grievous  penalties. 

Then  the  candle  was  blown  out  and  a  door  opened.  Some  inner 
mystery  was  about  to  be  unfolded.  They  were  blindfolded  and 
then  led  out  on  a  narrow  platform.  They  could  hear  below  them 
a  great  crowd  of  students,  shouting,  blowing  horns,  and  keeping  up 
a  terrible  din.  The  great  hall  was  crammed  with  upper-class  men. 

"  Make  a  speech,  fresh y  !  "  bawled  a  strapping  big  soph  in 
Harry's  ear.  "  Tell  the  gentlemen  you're  glad  to  be  here  !  " 

Harry  began  in  a  weak,  timid  voice  : 

"Gentlemen — am  very  glad  on  this  auspicious  occa — 

Swash  ! 

A  spongeful  of  dirty  water  is  flung  straight  in  his  face  !  Then 
he  felt  himself  grabbed  by  his  ankles  and  his  collar,  he  spitting  and 
protesting,  and  with  a  one,  two,  and  three  !  swung  and  hurled  into 
space  as  though  flung  out  of  a  catapult. 

Oh  !    Ugh ! 

What  a  sensation  !  His  bandage  fell  off  his  eyes.  He  found 
himself  landed  in  the  center  of  a  great  canvas  blanket  or  sail ;  up 
he  went  again,  head  down  and  legs  flying.  He  saw  he  was  sur 
rounded  by  hundreds  of  leering,  grinning  faces.  He  had  nothing 


52  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

to  catch  hold  of.  He  clawed  the  air.  Down,  down  he  went,  strik 
ing  so  softly  ;  he  rather  liked  it.  Then  he  became  aware  that 
someone  else  was  in  the  thing  with  him. 

"  For  God's  sake,  hang  on  to  me  !  "  cried  Jack,  as  they  bumped 
together,  and  "  Now  with  a  will,  boys  !  "  up  they  soared  together 
again  like  twin  aeronauts.  They  seemed  to  dally  close  to  the 
ceiling  for  a  moment,  and  then  down  "  like  a  thousand  o'  brick." 
They  clung  to  each  other  with  the  frenzy  of  despair.  What  a  gone, 
sinking  feeling,  and  then  up  again,  while  the  crowd  roared.  Again 
— and  again — and  again  !  Would  it  never  end  ?  They  were  sore 
with  bumps  on  the  floor,  and  bumps  against  the  plaster  ceiling,  but 
they  clung  to  each  other  still,  as  one  senior  remarked  to  another 
who  was  watching  the  tossing,  "  with  an  affection  produced  only 
by  mutual  calamity." 

At  last  it  ended.  They  had  time  to  glance  about  at  a  hundred 
grinning  fiends  and  have  horns  blown  in  their  ears,  when  they 
were  blindfolded  again. 

They  were  hurried  along,  conscious  of  a  howling,  angry,  yelling 
mob  of  sophs,  to  the  several  ordeals.  They  were  thumped  down 
on  seats  and  fell  into  tubs  of  ice  water.  They  were  guillotined — a 
frightful  ordeal  ;  for  their  bandages  were  removed  and  the  execu 
tioner,  in  a  black  cap,  made  it  all  the  more  frightful  by  never  fail 
ing  to  whisper,  "  The  knife  is  broken,  and  so,  if  it  should  slip  and 
really  cut  you,  have  you  any  last  message,  freshman  ?  "  But  as 
they  attempted  to  speak  the  awful  thing  fell  with  a  jerk,  and  as  it 
descended  a  piece  of  ice  was  drawn  across  their  bared,  upturned 
throats,  and  hot  water  gurgled  down  their  backs.  Not  Marie 
Antoinette  or  Louis  XVI.  had  more  realizing  sense  of  their 
untimely  end  !  Then  they  were  dragged  away  and  made  to  crawl 
through  a  piano  box  filled  with  sawdust.  They  were  rolled  in 
flour  and  were  slid  down  planks  into  tubs  of  water.  Men  pulled 
and  pushed  and  hauled  them.  They  were  sore  from  head  to  foot 
and  wet  and  dirty,  and  their  hair  matted.  Sweat  and  grime 
poured  down  their  necks  in  rivulets.  Their  clothes  were  torn  and 
ruined.  In  such  a  condition  were  they  at  last  admitted  to  mem 
bership  of  "  Jolly  D.  K.,"  and  had  their  coats  promptly  turned 


'.NOW    WITH    A    WILL,    I5OYS  !  " 


54  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

inside  out  for  them  to  prevent  their  being  initiated  over  again  by 
accident. 

"  Go  to  work  now,  freshy,  and  help  put  through  some  of  your 
friends  !  "  roared  a  big  soph.  It  was  Bailey,  who  pulled  No.  4  on 
the  'varsity  in  the  race  of  the  summer  before.  "  Oh — my — poor — 
fre — e — sh  ! "  shouted  the  sophs  in  unison,  and  Bailey  shouted,  too. 

"  Umpty-four  !  Umpty-four  !  "  shouted  back  Harry  and  Jack 
and  a  crowd  of  freshmen,  who  were  gazing  about  the  crowded  hall, 
in  a  very  dazed  and  hopeless  condition,  like  kittens  with  their  eyes 
just  open. 

It  was  a  great  room,  about  sixty  feet  square,  carpetless  and 
filled  with  dust  and  smoke.  What  a  crowd  !  Here  were  seniors 
jamming  and  rushing  about  with  juniors  and  sophs.  It  was  great 
fun  seeing  their  classmates  put  through.  But  the  din  and  the  noise 
were  terrible.  The  Yale  boy  is  primarily  a  good  fellow  ;  he  is  no 
"  dude,"  no  Miss  Nancy;  he  likes  honest  roughness.  But  he  can  be 
pleasant  and  amiable  enough  if  he  tries.  Some  juniors  came  up 
and  talked  with  Harry,  and  asked  him  how  he  liked  it  as  far  as 
he  had  got.  Then  some  sophomores 'made  themselves  agreeable. 
They  told  him  that  the  initiation  was  not  so  rough  as  usual,  and 
that  in  their  year  three  men  were  killed.  "  Generally,"  they  suid, 
"  six  or  eight  men  are  lamed  for  life." 

"  Why,  some  of  these  sophs  are  very  decent  sort  of  fellows,"  said 
Harry  to  Rives,  who  stood  near  him. 

"I  don't  trust  'em — they're  our  natural  born  enemies.  The 
juniors  are  our  friends.  They  hate  Umpty-three  as  much  as  we  do." 

Then  they  caught  hold  of  the  blanket  and  heaved  with  the  rest. 
What  fun  it  was  !  Fifty  men  all  pulling  at  once.  It  was  grand  ! 
It  repaid  them  for  all  their  trials  !  How  they  heave,  O  !  heave,  O  ! 
Up  went  the  poor  freshmen,  head  down,  heels  up  ;  then  feet  down 
and  head  up,  now  here,  now  there.  Sprawling — clutching — oh,  it 
was  great  fun  after  all  ! 

At  last  there  came  a  lull.  Dobson  and  Farley,  two  enormous 
men,  stripped  to  their  undershirts,  came  down  from  the  scaffolding, 
where  they  had  assisted  freshmen  into  the  blanket,  stood  on  a  box 
and  proclaimed  "  Order  !  Order  !  "  Silence  ensued.  "  Is  President 


DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION. 


55 


Stout  present?"  asked  Dobson,  looking  about  anxiously,  and  pi'e- 
tending  to  spy  him,  and  then  to  lose  him  in  the  crowd. 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter  at  the  idea  of  calling  for  the 
president  of  the  college. 


PROFESSOR  MAYNARD. 


"  Are  any  of  the  theological  faculty  here  to-night  ?  "  again  asked 
Dobson,  with  stentorian  lungs.  "  If  so,  I  ask  them  to  come  forward 
and  make  a  few  remarks  suitable  to  the  occasion." 

No  one  responded. 

"  Is  Professor  Maynard  here  ?  " 

When   this  distinguished   person    was   called    upon    a   bustling 


56  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

gentleman  in  high  choker  collar,  and  looking  just  like  the  beau  from 
an  old  fashion  plate,  pushed  forward.  Harry  shouted  with  laughter, 
for  he  saw  that  someone  had  copied  the  manner  and  dress  of  Pro 
fessor  Maynard  to  perfection.  There  were  the  spectacles,  the  buff 
waistcoat,  the  long  watch-guard  and  seal,  the  high  choker  and 
stock — it  was  an  admirable  imitation  of  the  "  old  beau." 

"  Professor  Maynard  "  clambered  up  on  the  platform  and  stood 
a  moment  with  folded  hands,  waiting  for  the  noise  to  subside. 

"  Gentlemen  of  Umpty-four." 

His  voice  was  squeaky  and  like  the  professor's  own. 

"  In  the  absence  of  the  president  and  of  Chauncey  Depew,  it  is 
my  duty  as  a  member  of  and  a  representative  of  the  faculty  to 
welcome  you  to  the  glories  of  Delta  Kap.  [Cries  of  '  Hear  ! 
hear! '  and  hootings.]  I  am  speaking  for  them  when  I  say  that  it 
is  their  wish  to  be  present  here  in  a  body  to-night,  for  they  regard 
this  great  institution  as  the  one  grand  bulwark  of  dear  old  Yale. 
[Catcalls  and  shouts  of  laughter.]  Unfortunately  they  are  de 
tained.  President  Stout  has  a  swelled  head,  owing  to  his  great 
pride  in  having  the  very  largest  freshman  class  that  ever  came  to 
Yale.  ['  Umpty-four  !  Umpty-four  !  Whoop  'er  up  for  Umpty- 
four  !'  The  freshmen  yelled  themselves  hoarse  over  this.]  Pro 
fessor  Black  is  busy  filing  away  at  a  new  sarcasm  [laughter]  ; 
Professor  Walker  is  busy  dropping  freshmen  into  Salt  Creek  off 
the  pans  asinorum  [shouts  by  the  sophs]  ;  Professor  Sinister  is 
busy — smiling — at  Brood's,  and  all  the  rest  are  overcome  by  the 
size,  the  beauty,  the  intelligence,  the  bumptiousness,  and  the  mag 
nificent — er — stupidity  of  the  freshman  class.  [Great  laughter.] 

"  There  never  was  such  a  class.  ['  Hear  !  hear  ! '  from  the 
freshmen.]  There  never  will  be  such  a  class  again — thank  the 
Lord!  [Laughter,  and  many  freshmen,  who  started  in  to  applaud, 
kept  silent.]  Why,  the  very  grass  in  the  campus  has  turned 
yellow  with  envy,  and  I  am  credibly  informed  that  yesterday 
a  freshman  was  eaten  by  a  cow  at  Hamilton  Park.  She  couldn't 
make  him  out  exactly,  but  she  knew  he  was  something  mighty 
green  !  [Laughter.]  But  a  word  in  my  own  behalf.  I  want  to 
say  to  you  how  much  Delta  Kap  has  done  for  me  and  the  faculty. 


DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION.  57 

Here,  gentlemen,  in  these  halls,  that  vulgar  fraction  of  your 
class  which  has  gone  to  the  oblivion — nay,  the  purgatory  of 
Sigmareps — and  the  Hades  of  Gamma  Nu — [Loud  groans,  hoot- 
ings,  shrieks,  and  yells  of  derision] — they  may  never  enter  here 
to  '  sully  your  pure  prayer,'  and  the  faculty  are  glad  of  it. 
[Laughter.] 

"  Here,  gentlemen,  you  are  given  (provided  you  pay  your  honest 
dues)  [applause]  these  magnificent  halls,  decorated  by  the  old 
masters  at  vast  expense.  Here  you  will  cultivate  those  powers  of 
speech  which  will  make  of  you  second  Websters  and  will  cause 
the  fame  of  Demosthenes  to  grow  dim.  Here,  in  jolly  D.  K.,  you 
will,  I  trust — and  the  faculty  always  get  trust  here  [laughter] — 
find  that  home  life  which  you  have  left  behind  you  with  your 
mothers  and  sisters.  Ladies,  to  be  sure,  never  enter  here,  but  very 
good,  manly  imitations  of  them  are  often  found  in  D.  K.,  tripping* 
thc  light  fantastic,  and  whispering  soft  nothings  in  the  dance.  To 
you,  members  of  Umpty-four,  the  faculty  look  to  keep  these 
sacred  mysteries  inviolate — mysteries  such  as  you  to-night  partici 
pated  in — with  the  hope  that  you  will  transmit  them  to  the  fresh 
men  of  another  year  the  same  as  when  you  received  them.  Gen 
tlemen,  the  faculty  propose  to  close  up  that  nest  of  vipers, 
Sigmareps,  very  soon.  Gentlemen,  three  times  three  for  dear  old 
Delta  Kap  !  "  [Prolonged  cheering.] 

The  bustling  old  gentleman  in  a  high  collar — the  exact  imitator 
of,  if  not  the  real  Professor  Maynard — got  down  off  the  platform, 
and  then  followed  songs,  other  speeches,  and  a  general  jollification. 
A  keg  of  lager  was  carried  in.  "  Here  you — have  some  beer,  won't 
you?"  Harry  was  standing  gaping  about  with  his  hair  in  his 
eyes.  It  was  Jones,  who  played  second  base  on  the  nine,  who 
spoke.  Harry  took  the  glass  of  beer  and  thanked  him.  "  Do  you 
play  ball  ?  "  he  asked,  scrutinizing  Harry.  "  Come  out  to  Hamil 
ton  Park  Monday  afternoon,  won't  you  ?" 

Would  he?     His  eyes  beamed  with  delight. 

"  Where  did  you  play  on  your  Andover  nine  ?" 

"  Catcher  sometimes,  and  short  stop." 

"  Dale  was  a  slow  pitcher,  wasn't  he  ?  " 


58  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

Harry  bridled,  but  he  said  nothing.  The  inference  was  that  he 
couldn't  catch  swift  pitching. 

"  We  are  anxious  to  have  a  few  substitutes  in  training  in  your 
class." 

Substitutes  !     Oh,  merely  to  be  a  substitute  in  the  'varsity  ! 

"  I've  been  playing  all  summer,  sir,"  said  Jack  Rives.  "  I'd  like 
to  "go  out,  too." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jones.  "  Come  out ;  we  want  you."  Then 
he  turned  away. 

The  first  thing  they  had  learned  so  far  at  Yale  was  to  revere 
upper-class  men.  There  were  certain  seniors  whose  names  Harry 
already  knew  who  filled  him  with  abject  awe.  Such  great  men  ! 
Such  tremendous  intellects  !  They  were  members  of  the  Spade 
and  Grave  and  the  Book  and  Lock.  There  was  the  great  Hawley 
standing  by  the  window  and  looking  on  the  crowd  with  solemn 
senioric  dignity.  How  could  the  great  man  bring  himself  to 
patronize  Delta  Kap  ?  He  wore  a  mysterious  golden  badge  upon 
his  necktie.  Harry  and  Jack  looked  upon  it  askance,  in  holy  awe. 

They  drank  some  more  beer  and  felt  on  very  good  terms  with 
the  whole  college.  Harry  saw  a  junior  whom  he  formerly  knew  in 
New  York,  Tom  Bixby. 

"  Hello,  Bix  !  "  he  called  out  briskly. 

Bixby  gave  him  a  frightful  stare.  "  Oh,  it's — young  Chestleton, 
is  it  ?  How  de  do,  young  Chestleton — er — glad  to  see  you  here " 

Then  Bixby  turned  abruptly,  and  made  a  remark  to  his  friends 
upon  the  dashed  impudence  of  these  dashed  Uinpty-four  men. 
Harry  felt  hurt,  but  it  renewed  his  respect  for  upper-class  men. 
Caswell  and  the  men  he  met  at  dinner  with  his  uncle  were  much 
nicer  to  him.  Even  Holland  laughed  and  talked  pleasantly  with 
them.  Holland  was  the  great  man  in  Delta  Kap.  He  had  beaten 
Sigma  Eps  out  of  sight,  and  he  could  strut  about  with  his  friends 
and  "lug  it"  as  he  liked.  "Oh,  he's  sure  to  go  into  a  senior 
society,"  said  one  of  Harry's  friends,  "  and  he  can  take  his  friends 
with  him — anyone  he  likes." 

It  seemed  to  invest  Holland  with  a  new  romantic  interest. 

After  the  "  exercises  "  were  over,  on  the  way  home  there  was 


DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION.  59 

a  rush.  The  freshmen  of  Delta  Kap  formed  on  the  sidewalk  out 
side  their  hall  four  deep,  and  marched  along  up  Chapel  Street  by 
the  green,  keeping  step  as  they  marched  and  waking-  the  echoes  of 
midnight  with  their  "rah — rah — rahs  for  Umpty-four."  They 
were  about  seventy  in  number,  and  they  presented  a  delicious 
mark  for  the  sophs,  who  were  skirmishing  about  here  and  there  in 
the  darkness  after  "  scalps."  The  Sigma  Eps  gang  came  up  the 
street  singing  presently,  and  joined  them.  It  was  an  open  secret 
that  up  about  the  colleges  the  sophs  would  try  their  mettle  en  masse 
in  a  rush. 

The  freshmen,  nothing  daunted,  advanced  up  Chapel  Street  with 
locked  step.  About  opposite  old  Trinity  the  sophs  were  waiting 
for  them,  a  hundred  strong. 

It  was  midnight,  and  the  bells  were  just  tolling  out  the  hour. 

"  Urnpty-three,  Umpty -three  !  "  shouted  the  sophs  in  a  hoarse 
roar,  which  made  the  hearts  of  the  freshmen  tremble,  and  rever 
berated  in  the  still  night  far  under  the  old  elms. 

"  Umpty-four,  Umpty-four  !  "  bawled  the  freshies,  keeping  step. 

Then  the  two  cohorts  came  together.  All  was  tumult  and 
confusion.  There  was  no  striking,  only  wrestling,  pulling,  and 
hauling.  Everyone  tried  to  roll  everyone  else  in  the  mud.  Harry 
and  one  of  his  own  class  wrestled,  in  their  excitement,  and  rolled 
over  and  over  on  the  wooden  pavement.  There  were  some  blows, 
too,  very  few.  Coats  were  torn  into  shreds.  Pretty  soon  most  of 
the  freshmen  were  in  the  street  and  the  sophomores  on  the  side 
walks.  They  began  to  crow  and  shout  for  Urnpty-three  and  their 
glorious  victory,  and  poke  fun  at  the  freshmen,  who,  whenever 
they  tried  to  regain  the  sidewalk,  were  ignoniiniously  thrown  out 
into  the  street. 

Meanwhile,  however,  scouts  had  been  sent  on  the  run  up  to  the 
college  to  awaken  sleeping  freshmen  and  urge  them  to  the  fray. 
Twenty  big  fellows  came  down  from  a  freshman  hive  on  High 
Street.  Their  ranks  began  to  fill  up  rapidly. 

They  formed  again  four  deep  and  charged.  This  time  they  had 
the  larger  for<5e.  They  rushed  the  sophs  pell-mell  up  the  street 
toward  the  colleges.  Then  there  was  a  halt  at  the  fence.  The 


60  COLLEGE   DA  YS. 

sophs  made  a  last  stand.  It  was  of  no  earthly  use.  They  were 
rushed  into  the  Street.  Then  came  the  cry— that  cry  so  ominous 
to  the  midnight  student  marauder:  "Faculty!  Faculty!" 

Everyone  ran.  Harry  was  in  the  midst  of  throwing  a  heavy 
soph  in  the  mud.  He  paid  no  attention  to  the  warning  cry. 
Someone  had  grabbed  him  by  the  collar. 

"Name!"  came  down  to  him  in  a  solemn  voice  which  made  his 
flesh  creep  and  his  heart  stand  still. 

"Jones,"  he  replied,  quaking. 

"Jones,"  said  the  voice,  which  seemed  to  come  from  the  airy 
space  above  him.  "Disperse  to  your  room!  " 

"Yes,  sir!  "  said  Harry. 

"At  once!" 

"Yes,  sir." 

Off  he  sped  until  he  got  behind  Old  South  College,  when  he 
skirted  around  the  building  and  came  out  on  the  street  again,  join 
ing  a  number  of  freshmen  he  met. 

"Who  was  that  tall  professor?"  he  asked.  "lie  told  me  to 
'  disperse  '  to  my  room,  and  I'm  going — if  the  fun's  over." 

"Oh,  he  was  only  joking,"  laughed  one  of  the  freshmen.  "I 
guess  he  didn't  mean  it — one  fellow  can't  'disperse.'  ' 

"By  Jove!  he  was,  was  he?" 

Someone  who  looked  very  like  the  tall  professor  came  charging 
down  upon  them,  along  the  fence,  at  full  tilt.  He  could  run  like 
the  wind.  Off  started  the  freshmen,  but,  run  as  fast  as  they 
would,  the  demon  professor  kept  gaining  on  them.  On,  on,  on — 
up  to  High  Street.  Harry  jumped  the  fence,  and  so  did  the  pro 
fessor. 

Harry  put  on  a  burst  of  speed  and  ran  down  High  to  Elm.  The 
professor  "followed  fast  and  followed  faster."  Harry  turned 
down  Elm  and  so  into  the  campus  agaiu  by  Durfee,  the  professor 
ever  after  him. 

Harry  ran  like  a  deer  down  by  Farnam,  and  made  a  dive  into 
North  Middle,  and  so  upstairs  three  steps  at  a  time.  His  blood 
was  up;  he  made  for  the  second  story  window  and  jumped  out. 
The  fall  shook  him  up  a  little,  but  he  straightened  up  and  laughed 


DELTA    KAPPA    INITIATION.  6 1 

as  he  saw  lie  had  stumped  the  professor.  He  did  not  dare 
follow. 

"Jump,  professor!"  he  called  out. 

"Jones,  is  that  you?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  think  you  are  telling  me  a  deceitful  bonnet — 

"A  what,  sir?" 

"A  falsehood." 

"Well,  who  am  I,  then?" 

"Chestleton,  of  Umpty-four." 

Harry  trembled.  "Don't  report  me,  sir;  I  didn't  mean  any 
thing." 

"  I  shall  be  obliged  to — unless — 

"What,  sir?" 

"You  set  up  the  champagne  for  the  faculty."  Harry  could  not 
believe  his  ears. 

"What,  sir?" 

A  peal  of  hearty  laughter  followed,  and  the  professor  said: 

"Youngster,  I  think  I'll  try  you  for  the  nine.  You've  got 
pluck,  and  lots  of  it,  and  you  can  run  like — ahem!  You  ought  to 
make  second  every  clip!"  The  professor  disappeared,  and  Harry 
then  knew  it  was  Harding,  the  captain  of  the  'varsity  nine! 

He  went  trotting  home  in  the  rain.  He  was  soaked,  dirty, 
frowzy,  but  in  good  spirits.  lie  had  had  lots  of  fun  for  one  even 
ing- — -and — if — if  —  was  it  true  that  —  he  —  a  freshman — would 
actually  be  tried- — for  the  'varsity? 

When  he  reached  his  room  on  York  Street  Jack  Rives  and  half 
a  dozen  classmates  were  regaling  themselves  with  crackers  and 
beer,  waiting  up  for  him.  He  told  them  of  his  adventure. 

"Jack,"  he  cried,  "if  I  get  on  I'll  make  it  all  right  for  you,  too, 
old  man !  " 

Stamp  was  seated  on  the  table,  gravely  catching  the  crackers 
they  tossed  to  him.  Things  were  beginning  to  go  as  he  wanted 
them  to.  He  was  better  natured  than  he'd  been  for  a  week. 

"Well,"  said  Jack,  "you're  in  luck,  and  they  say  Umpty-four 
is  the  best  class  that  ever  entered  Yale ! " 


62  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

"Oh,  shoot  it!"  laughed  Coles. 

There  came  a  knock  on  the  door.  Mrs.  Gimly,  in  nightcap  and 
doublegown,  stuck  her  head  in. 

"Air  you  aware  of  the  noise  you  are  making,  gentlemen?"  she 
asked.  "Air  you  aware  it  is  the  holy  Sabbath  day,  though  only 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning?  " 

"Come  in,  Mrs.  Gimly,  and  have  something  with  us!"  called 
out  Jack  cheerily. 

A  hasty  slam  of  the  door,  and  Mrs.  Gimly  vanished. 

Almost  the  entire  freshman  class  cut  early  chapel  the  next 
morning.  But  what  a  smile  of  victorious  content  rested  upon 
their  fresh,  honest,  boyish  faces  at  church! 

They  had  met  the  sophomores — and  they  were  theirs. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

TIIK    DAILY    LIFE. 

ITII  Sunday  came  a  truce  in  tbe  great  never-to-be- 

endcd  war  with  tho  s°Phomores.  They  could 
then  go  about  in  their  best  clothes.  The  rear 
of  the  old  chapel  was  devoted  to  freshmen,  and 
they  found  that  their  seats  were  not  half  so 
bad  as  Uncle  Dick  had  told  them.  Up  in  the  high  galleries  sat 
the  "snab" — as  they  were  called — the  pretty  daughters  of  pro 
fessors  and  visiting  cousins  and  sisters.  At  the  close  of  service 
it  was  great  sport  to  see  President  Stout  walk  down  the  middle 
aisle  between  the  ranks  of  bowing  seniors.  The  freshmen  were 
supposed  to  bow  and  keep  bowing  while  the  upper  classes  passed 
out, — a  reminder  of  the  old  fagging  days  at  Yale, — but  the  fresh 
men  usually  refused  to  bow  to  anyone  except  the  dear  old  presi 
dent,  for  whom  everyone  seemed  to  have  so  much  affection. 

It  was  rather  hard  being  obliged  to  attend  the  afternoon  service 
in  addition  to  the  morning  ordeal.  The  sermons  were  long  and 
"knotty."  The  president  generally  had  some  keen,  hair-splitting 
theological  point  he  wished  to  prove  out  of  the  Old  Testament  for 
the  edification  of  the  theological  faculty,  who  sat  up  in  the  gallery 
and  were  the  only  persons  in  the  chapel  who  appeared  at  all  inter 
ested.  There  was  rarely  anything  said  applicable  to  the  especial 
needs  of  young  men,  except  to  keep  up  as  far  as  possible  the 
general  weekday  notion  that  students  were  all  particularly  sinful 
as  a  class,  unworthy  of  anything  more  than  a  cold  toleration. 

The  week  succeeding  the  D.  K.  initiation  their  York  Street 
room  was  pleasantly  adorned  with  more  than  a  dozen  "scalps." 
It  was  great  fun,  this  carrying  the  Avar  into  Africa.  The  sophs 
thought  it  tremendously  impudent.  It  was  their  prerogative  to 
steal  freshman  caps.  Several  of  them  went  to  Thornton  and  com- 


64  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

plained.  "Umpty-four"  was  carrying  things  with  too  high  a 
hand.  All  the  good  old  customs  of  the  college  were  being  upset, 
etc.  But  the  freshmen  persisted,  and  the  rowing  began  to  be 
noticed  by  the  faculty.  A  sophomore  by  the  name  of  Buusby  got 
into  the  Euclid  recitation  room  while  the  freshmen  were  reciting, 
and  stole  over  twenty  hats.  In  retaliation  a  freshman  by  the 
name  of  Best  stole  into  the  soph  recitation  room  while  they  were 
reciting  their  Agamemnon,  and  tried  to  get  away  with  all  the  caps 
on  the  hooks.  He  had  his  face  carefully  blacked,  and  looked  like  a 
darky.  He  dressed  for  his  part,  and  corked  his  hands,  his  neck, 
and  wrists. 

A  sophomore  caught  him  by  the  ankle  as  he  was  making  his  exit, 
and  dragged  him  into  the  room  before  the  entire  division.  Then 
Best  braved  it  out  as  best  he  might.  He  had  the  "gall"  to  talk 
darky  lingo  to  good  old  Professor  Sadie}',  who  was  hearing  the 
recitation  and  who  was  imposed  upon.  He  pretended  to  cry,  and 
told  them  that  he  had  been  paid  a  quarter  by  some  "gemmen  "  to 
get  the  hats,  an'  was  mighty  sorry  he  done  it.  He  couldn't  tell 
the  names  of  the  gemmen.  Dey  was  gemmen  though,  an'  showed 
money. 

A  soph,  who  was  a  candidate  for  the  'varsity  nine,  pretended  he 
believed  Best  was  a  darky,  and  led  him  out  of  the  room  and  gave 
him  a  "boost"  that  sent  him  flying  downstairs.  Best  was 
"spotted"  for  hazing  purposes  and  he  was  well  roasted  later  in 
winter  term,  but  the  faculty  never  "rowed  "  him. 

The  house  on  York  Street  soon  began  to  have  a  reputation. 
Jack  and  Harry  on  the  second  floor  front;  Thornton,  the  great 
freshman  heavy-weight,  on  the  floor  above  them;  Nevers,  Coles, 
Hitch,  Steele,  and  others  in  the  rear  rooms  kept  things  very  lively. 
Mrs.  Gimly  they  discovered  —  very  much  after  the  manner  of 
Harry's  Andover  landlady — was  always  on  the  point  of  "going  to 
see"  Professor  Shepard,  but  never  did. 

The  noise  they  made  at  night — the  wrestling  and  heavy  falls  in 
Harry's  room,  just  above  where  she  and  her  "darter  Samanthy," 
who  was  studying  to  be  a  teacher,  sat  round  their  study  lamp 
every  evening — was  not  calculated  to  soothe  her  feelings.  The 


THE  DAILY  LIFE.  65 

boxing,  too,  disturbed  her.  It  made  the  whole  house  shake  like 
an  earthquake  from  garret  to  cellar.  The  everlasting  sophomores 
she  was  able  to  bar  out  of  the  house;  but  her  inmates  were  a 
"terrible  bad  lot"  she  told  Mrs.  McGuiness,  who  kept  a  boarding 
house  across  the  street.  Mrs.  McGuiness  was  a  swarthy,  tall, 
strong  Irishwoman  who  never  relied  upon  Professor  Shepard  or 
the  faculty  in  her  intercourse  with  freshmen.  No,  indeed! 

"  What  do  you  do,  Mrs.  McGuiness,  when  them  freshmen  make 
sich  a  noise?  It  gives  me  an'  me  darter  headaches,  both  of  us;  an' 
the  winders  rattles." 

"What  does  Oi  do?"  answered  Mrs.  McGuiness.  "I  jest  fires 
'em  out,  if  they're  bad  behaved.  Shure  me  byes  is  all  dacent  an' 
quiet,  student  loike.  Shure  they  til  me  Oi  have  the  fadin'  of 
Mr.  Alum,  the  vallydicatorian.  It's  him  an'  his  aunt,  Miss  Alum, 
boards  wi'  me;  ha'  ye  sane  her?  A  grit  tall  spook  I  call  the  likes 
av  her!  Shure  she  sez,  sez  she,  she's  in  Umpty-four  hersel!  I 
see  her  snatch  wan  o'  thim  softmore  bastes'  hats  thuther  night 
as  shure  as  guns !  " 

Mrs.  Gimly  smiled  sadly.  The  allusion  to  the  sophomores  as 
"bastes"  was  quite  to  her  taste.  She  knew  Mrs.  McGuiness' 
tendency  to  draw  the  long  bow,  however,  and  she  was  not  inclined 
to  let  the  last  statement  go  without  challenging. 

"Your  lady  boarder  stealing  a  softmore's  hat?" 

"Oi  sane  her!"  lied  the  landlady  boastfully.  "Shure  she 
thought  none  was  lookin'.  It's  her  nevvy  as  sneaks  along,  coward 
like,  fer  fear  o'  thim  bastes,  to  his  recitation — him  the  vallydica 
torian !  Shure  he  has  none  o'  thim  softmore  scalps  hangin'  in  his 
room  but  the  one  she  stole.  She's  no  coward.  She's  fit  fer  to 
fight  the  loikes  o'  me!  She  stands  by  her  nevvy,  the  vallydica 
torian,  like  death  to  a  dead  nigger!  Thim  limbs  o'  Satan  tried 
to  break  in  his  room  while  the  poor  lad  was  larnin'  Greek  prin 
ciples — an'  what  did  Miss  Alum  do?  She  stood  her  ground  till  I 
come  up,  an'  thim  softmores  is  wearing  court  plaster  till  this  day, 
an'  she  stole  the  hat  sos't  her  nevvy  would  be  considered  as  brave 
as  the  nixt.  Shure  I  do  be  expictin'  her  to  be  in  the  big  rush  next 
Saturday !" 


66  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

Mrs.  Gimly  went  sadly  into  tbe  house.  The  night  before  there 
had  been  a  general  caucus  in  Harry  and  Jack's  room  to  elect  a 
captain  for  the  freshman  nine.  About  forty  freshmen  had 
crammed  and  jammed  themselves  into  the  room.  They  had 
wedged  themselves  in  so  tight — for  it  was  the  first  class  election 
and  the  "Andover  crowd"  wanted  to  work  things  their  own  way 
with  Harry  as  their  candidate — that  the  boy  who  was  crowded  up 
on  to  the  top  of  tbe  bookcase  was  unanimously  elected  the  chair 
man  of  the  caucus,  and  the  boy  in  the  center  of  the  room  nearest 
the  inkstand  wras  elected  secretary.  Several  had  baseball  bats  in 
their  hands  and  naturally  hammered  them  on  the  floor  at  every 
opportunity  given  them  for  applause,  besides  stamping  and  '  'rah, 
'rahing'  at  the  top  of  their  lungs.  Mrs.  Gimly  got  mad.  Her 
daughter  Samanthy,  in  ringlets,  ran  upstairs  to  protest  four  times. 
It  was  of  no  use. 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Gimly  announced,  with  tremendous  solem 
nity,  that  nothing  would  or  could  ever  soothe  her  feelings  except 
"  seeing  "  Professor  Shepard !  To  Professor  Shepard  she  would 
go!  Nothing  should  prevent  her  telling  him  about  the  noise,  the 
beer,  the  cigars,  the  boxing  matches,  the  wrestling,  which  the 
rules  of  the  house  forbade,  as  they  knew!  Harry,  who  had  had 
experiences  in  Andover  of  a  similar  nature,  hastily  passed  the  hat 
around  through  the  rooms  and  collected  five  dollars.  This  he 
placed  in  an  envelope  and  in  the  presence  of  all  the  freshmen  in 
the  house,  who  invaded  Mrs.  Gimly's  parlor  for  the  purpose,  and 
Avith  a  great  deal  of  oratory  and  fulsome  eulogy  presented  to  her 
in  due  form. 

"It  was  a  token,"  he  said  solemnly,  "of  their  esteem  and  love. 
They  had  learned  in  the  few  weeks  they  had  been  at  Yale  to  love 
Mrs.  Gimly  like  a  stepmother.  They  had  no  mother  there  at 
college  [pathetic  pause] ;  they  needed  someone  to  love  them,  to 
care  for  them.  Mrs.  Gimly  could  act  in  loco  parentis.  She  could 
love  them  even  if  by  accident  there  was  more  noise  than  they  could 
otherwise  wish."  Samanthy  wept;  Mrs.  Gimly  grew  less  stern. 
She  accepted  the  five  dollars  and  did  not  visit  her  dear  Professor 
Shepard. 


THE  DAILY  LIFE. 


67 


"ITmpty-three!" 

"  Whooperup !    Whoopernp  for  Umpty-four !  " 

These  were  the  cries  to  which  the  facetious  sophs  and  fresh 
men  clubs  marched  through  York  Street  and  kept  step  by  nearly 
every  night.  It  was  hardly  safe  for  a  "fresh"  to  go  about  alone 
those  first  weeks.  Already  Jack  and  Harry  had  had  many  a  cap 
snatched  from  their 
heads,  but  as  they  had 
a  collection  of  five  very 
much  damaged  soph 
hats, or  "scalps, "as they 
were  called,  hanging  in 
their  room,  they  felt 
they  had  made  adequate 
reprisals,  and  their  col 
lection  had  only  just 
begun.  It  got  to  be  so 
that  sophs  and  fresh 
men  went  to  recitation 
in  the  queerest  old 
straw  hats  and  broken 
down  beavers,  so  that 
if  in  the  melee  they  lost 
them  they  didn't  care. 

One  of  the  sopho 
mores  who  gave  the 
freshmen  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  was  named  Joe  Briggs,  or  "  Lambda  Chi  "  Briggs.  He  was 
a  tall,  red-haired  chap  from  the  wild  and  woolly  West.  They 
called  him  "Lambda  Chi  "because  in  the  previous  year  he  was 
initiated  into  that  society  as  the  greenest  freshman  in  his  class. 
"  He  had  no  idea  of  anything  at  all,"  said  a  friend  in  Umpty-four 
who  had  known  about  it.  He  would  do  anything  they  told  him. 
He  went  about  the  first  week  he  was  in  college  slapping  professors 
and  upper-class  men  on  the  back,  and  saying,  "How  are  you  to 
day  ?"  because  the  sophs  put  him  up  to  it.  He  slapped  President 


THE  CHAIRMAN. 


68  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

Stout  on  the  back  and  threw  the  kindly  old  gentleman  into  a 
coughing  fit.  He  tried  it  on  Professor  Walker,  but  the  latter  turned 
on  him  and  gave  him  an  indignant  and  powerful  box  on  the  ear. 
They  got  him  to  leave  off  wearing  a  collar  and  necktie,  which  lie 
did  for  a  week.  They  invited  him  to  faculty  meetings,  and  got 
him  into  all  sorts  of  scrapes,  and  then  they  "  Lambda  Chied  "  him 
in  earnest.  They  stole  him  out  of  his  room  one  night  and  carried 
him  out  to  East  Rock  in  a  hack.  Then  they  had  a  grand  powwow 
up  there,  dressed  like  Indians,  they  tied  poor  Briggs  to  a  stake  and 
made  ready  to  roast  him. 

The  poor  fellow  was  stripped  down  to  "pueris  naturallibusque" 
as  he  said  afterward,  and  had  to  make  his  way  back  to  his  room  in 
an  undershirt !  Naturally  when  Briggs  came  to  be  a  sophomore  he 
wanted  to  keep  up  the  "grand  old  custom"  of  "Lambda  Chi"  for 
the  benefit  of  Umpty-four.  Harry  fully  believed  that  Caswell, 
Storrs,  and  Holland,  and  the  rest  of  the  campaign  committee  of 
D.  K.,  had  not  condoned  and  would  not  forgive  him  for  Uncle 
Dick's  dinner  at  Charlie  Gradley's.  He  felt  that  trouble  was  brew 
ing  for  him.  Jack  Rives,  too,  got  himself  quickly  into  trouble. 
He  snatched  Caswell's  cap  one  night.  It  had  "  Umpty-three  "  on 
it  in  white  patent-leather  letters.  Jack  persisted  in  wearing  it  to 
recitation,  and  of  course  it  made  the  sophomores  perfectly 
furious.  It  was  such  a  "  dare  "  and  showed  so  much  "  gall,"  they 
said. 

Twice  Caswell  and  his  friends  tried  to  get  into  Mrs.  Gimly's  and 
haze  those  "cheeky  freshmen,"  but  Mrs.  Gimly  knew  the  "soft- 
mores"  by  instinct,  and  refused  to  open  the  front  door,  and  threat 
ened,  if  they  persisted,  to  call  a  policeman.  Harry  and  his  friends 
sat  in  the  open  window  of  their  room  on  the  second  story  and 
jeered  at  them.  Caswell  shook  his  fist  at  Rives,  who  wore  his  cap. 
"  You're  too  d — d  sassy  !  "  he  bawled  out  ;  "  it's  time  you  were  in 
heaven  !  You  know  too  much  for  this  earth." 

"  Caswell,  it's  a  pity  you  don't  know  a  little  more,  isn't  it  !  " 
laughed  Harry.  "  Then  you  wouldn't  be  pledging  old  goods  to 
jolly  D.  K.  !  " 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  right  you  have  to  snatch  sophomore 


THE  DAILY  LIFE.  69 

caps?  It's  contrary  to  every  tradition  in  Yale  College,"  yelled 
Caswell  angrily. 

"  We're  going  to  establish  a  new  one,  then." 

The  sophomores  on  the  sidewalk  below  held  a  consultation. 
Mrs.  Gimly  stood  peeking  out  of  the  front  door,  holding  the  fort, 
as  it  were.  Harry  called  down  : 

"  See  here,  Caswell,  I'll  go  out  now  [it  was  about  9  p.  M.]  and 
wrestle  you  best  t\vo  out  of  three  for  a  dinner  for  the  crowd,  or 
I'll  meet  }7ou  and  box  four  rounds  with  hard  gloves,  or  I'll  back  our 
dog  Stamp  against  any  dog  in  the  sophomore  class.  Come  now  !  " 

Caswell  and  his  friends  walked  off,  pretending  not  to  notice 
him. 

And  so  it  went  on  from  day  to  day.  The  freshman  eating  club, 
which  Harry  and  Jack  joined,  was  not  far  from  their  rooms  on 
York  Street,  and  the  swell  soph  eating  club,  which  Holland,  Cas 
well,  Guthrie,  Storrs,  etc.,  belonged  to,  was  in  the  next  house  but 
one. 

There  were  about  a  dozen  men  in  each  club,  and  they  contained 
the  pick  of  eacli  class.  Hostilities  between  the  two  clubs  began  to 
grow  very  bitter.  They  had  had  two  or  three  sidewalk  rushes. 
But  hard  feeling  culminated  on  Wednesday  night — the  week  which 
ended  in  the  grand  annual  class  rush  after  the  ball  game  at  Hamil 
ton  Park  on  Saturday. 

It  seemed  that  Thornton,  who  knew  a  lot  of  New  Haven  people, 
learned  that  there  was  to  be  a  sophomore  german  that  night  at  the 
house  of  one  of  the  wealthy  residents  on  Temple  Street.  He  men 
tioned  the  fact  casually  at  supper  (they  always  dined  in  the  middle 
of  the  day)  at  their  eating  club,  which  was  located  in  a  house  on 
York  Street  on  a  block  farther  west  than  Mrs.  Gimly's. 

"  I  wish  we  could  go,  too,"  laughed  Harry.  "  It  would  be  good 
fun  to  cut  out  Caswell  and  the  sophomores." 

"Let's  get  through  early,"  said  Jack,  "  and  have  a  rush  after 
supper.  They  won't  want  to,  and  we  can  have  some  fun  with 
them.  If  any  of  them  happen  to  have  on  dress  suits,  why,  so  much 
the  worse  for  them,  that's  all." 

"  I   think   we'll    get    enough    rushing  at   Hamilton    Park,"   said 


70  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Thornton.  "  Besides,  Bob  Clark  told  me  to  iook  out  and  not  get 
strained  ;  our  race  at  Lake  Saltonstall  comes  off  in  four  weeks,  you 
know,  Jack." 

"  You  get  strained  !  "  laughed  Jack  Rives. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  frightened,  but  I  have  to  do  most  of  the  work,  you 
know  ;  it  comes  on  me.  You,  Coles,  Nevers,  and  Rives,  light 
weights,  can  go  flying  off  into  the  darkness  any  time,  but  I  can't 
get  away.  I  always  seem  to  have  three  or  four  sophomores  on  my 
back  at  once.  These  night  rushes  are  all  very  fine  if  it's  only  leg 
work.  But  you  see,  when  a  man  like  Bellamy  Storrs  or  big  Guth- 
rie  gets  to  tackling  you,  it's  deuced  hard  work.  It's  business  from 
the  word  'go' !" 

"  But  you  threw  Bellamy  Storrs  twice  last  week." 

"  Yes,  and  now  he's  fierce  to  throw  me.  He  won't  be  really  sat 
isfied  until  I  roll  him  over  in  the  mud  again,  and  it  makes  me  sore 
to  think  of  it." 

Jack  Rives,  who  had  gone  out  as  a  scout,  ran  in  again  to  say  the 
sophs  were  coming  out  of  their  club,  and  had  formed  two  by  two. 
There  were  four  or  five  of  them  in  dress  suits  ready  for  the  party. 

It  seemed  such  a  good  and  opportune  time  to  have  a  little  sport 
with  them  that  even  big  Thornton  reached  his  cap  from  a  peg  with 
the  remark  : 

"  Well,  fellows,  we  can  have  a  little  talk  with  them,  anyhow." 

Thornton  put  on  his  hat  very  tight  and  they  all  went  out,  some 
with  their  caps  in  their  belts. 

"  Now,  then,  let's  form  three  abreast  and  go  after  them  on  the 
double-quick,"  said  Harry.  "  Let's  try  to  pass  'em  on  the  inside. 
If  they  get  shoved  in  the  gutter  it's  their  own  lookout.  Come 
on  !" 

They  formed  as  he  suggested  and  very  soon  caught  up  with  the 
rear  ranks  of  the  sophomores.  A  favorable  opportunity  occurring 
they  pushed  in  between  the  sophs  and  the  fence.  The  sophs  were 
in  no  mood  for  rushing — they  weren't  dressed  for  it — and  stormed 
loudly  and  vigorously  at  the  freshmen.  But  they  could  not  help 
fighting  for  their  rights.  It  ended  in  being  the  toughest  night  row 
since  D.  K.  initiation  night.  Nearly  everyone  had  his  coat  ripped 


THE   DAILY  LIFE.  71 

off  his  back.  The  sophs,  in  dress  suits,  fought  like  tigers.  But 
Harry  and  Thornton  got  hold  of  one  after  another  and  down  they 
rolled  over  and  over  in  the  miry  street  near  the  library.  Caswell 
lost  his  temper  outright.  He  drew  off  and  struck  Harry  a  sounding 
thwack  on  the  jaw,  which  Harry  returned  with  interest  in  the  left 
optic.  Caswell  tore  madly  at  his  dress  coat,  which  he  gave  some 
one  to  hold.  He  wanted  to  fight  it  out  then  and  there.  Our  hero, 
though  not  so  heavy  as  Caswell,  was  more  than  willing.  He  was 
in  much  better  training.  "  You  scoundrels,"  Caswell  yelled,  "  to 
lay  for  us  when  you  see  we're  dressed  for  a  party.  But  I  don't  care 
how  I'm  dressed — I'm  ready  now.  Come  on,  Chestleton — I  may  as 
well  lick  you  now  as  ever  !  " 

Harry  "  put  up  his  dukes,"  as  the  sporting  phrase  goes,  but  the 
crowd  interfered  and  stopped  it.  Captain  McKensie,  of  the  football 
team,  a  junior,  and  one  of  the  most  influential  men  in  college,  came 
running  up  to  see  what  the  row  was  about.  He  read  the  freshman 
class  a  lecture  as  soon  as  lie  learned  the  facts.  "By  Jove  !  "he  said 
indignantly,  "  you  freshmen  are  getting  to  be  a  confounded  nuisance 
in  college.  You  haven't  been  here  two  weeks,  but  you  are  at  it  night 
and  day  !  Here  these  gentlemen  were  on  their  way  to  their  rooms, 
peaceably  minding  their  own  business,  and  going  to  a  'shindig  'after 
ward.  What  right  had  you  to  rush  them  ?  You'll  get  the  whole  col 
lege  down  on  you  if  you  keep  this  sort  of  thing  up.  Rushing  is  all 
very  well — and  you'll  get  your  fill  Saturday,  if  the  faculty  don't  stop 
it.  But  you  sophs  have  brought  the  whole  thing  down  on  yourselves. 
You've  tried  hazing,  and  you've  tried  to  keep  our  class  from  steal 
ing  freshmen  from  D.  K.  Why,  juniors  have  always  been  allowed 
to  steal  a  few  freshmen,  and  rush  them  in  without  initiation.  It 
always  was,  till  this  year,  one  of  our  rights.  Now  there  are  tradi 
tions  of  the  college  that  you've  got  to  respect."  [Cries  of  "Come 
off  the  roof,  papa,"  from  sundry  freshmen  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
crowd.]  "One  is  that  rushing  shan't  take  place  every  night 
in  the  week,  and  cap-snatching  ought  to  stop  altogether  after 
Saturday." 

And  so  the  crowd  dispersed.  Harry,  Jack,  and  Thornton,  in  a 
freak  of  boyish  generosity,  loaned  their  own  dress  suits  to  the  sophs 


72  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

who  were  the  most  damaged.  They  were  accepted  in  the  right 
spirit,  and  none  of  them  cared  very  much  about  the  damage  to 
their  evening  clothes.  Caswell  laughed  and  said: 

"You're  the  cheekiest  fresh  I  ever  saw.  But  hanged  if  you're 
not  good  fighters,  and  I  don't  care.  Wait  till  next  Saturday,  and 
we'll  do  you  up  in  great  shape!'' 

He  put  on  Harry's  dress  clothes  and  got  a  friend  to  chalk  his 
eye.  He  had  no  hard  feelings!  Harry  admired  him  greatly  as  he 
strolled  off  to  the  party,  a  cigarette  in  his  mouth,  "like  a  gentle 
man,"  with  a  haughty,  superior  swagger,  just  a  boy's  "gentle 
manly  hero!" 

Meanwhile,  every  afternoon,  Harry  and  Jack  meandered  on  the 
slow  horse  car  out  to  Hamilton  Park,  where  Captain  Harding,  of 
the  'varsity  (then  always  called  "university")  nine,  was  arranging 
some  class  games  for  the  fall,  in  order  to  test  the  ability  of  men 
who  wished  to  get  on  the  different  class  nines. 

Numbers  of  students  walked  or  rode  out  to  the  ball  ground 
every  afternoon.  The  freshmen  thus  made  a  number  of  acquain 
tances  among  the  upper-class  men  :  Hoadley,  the  celebrated  back 
stop  or  catcher  of  Yale  for  the  previous  four  years,  and  who  had 
sworn  to  stay  in  college  until  Harvard  was  beaten  if  it  took  a  life 
time;  Murdoch,  the  first  base — a  hulking  big  fellow,  a  Kentuckian 
with  a  handsome  blond  face,  who  was  a  terrific  batsman,  but  who  was 
slow  in  getting  around  the  bases;  Stranahan,  a  capital  left  fielder, 
whom  they  had  known  when  he  was  at  Andover.  The  latter  told 
them  how  it  was  that  Harvard  had  been  able  to  win  so  many  years 
running. 

"They've  beaten  us  since  1864,"  said  he,  "and  for  the  last  four 
years  it  is  all  owing  to  Dr.  Taylor  of  Andover." 

"Rather  to  the  faculty,"  said  Harding,  "who  cut  their  own 
noses  off! " 

"You  see  Bush — Archie  Bush — of  Albany,  one  of  the  finest  base 
ball  players  ever  on  a  college  nine,  was  at  Andover,  and  so  were 
White  and  two  other  men  who  now  make  up  the  Harvard  team. 
Well,  a  lot  of  them  went  over  to  Lawrence  one  day,  contrary  to 
link's  rule.  I  believe  they  went  over  to  play  a  match  with  the 


THE   DAILY  LIFE.  73 

local  team.  It  was  perfectly  harmless,  what  they  did.  But  Unk 
got  hold  of  it,  and  you  know  what  a  disciplinarian  he  is. 

"It  was  just  after  they  had  graduated  from  Andover  too,  and 
Unk  had  really  no  control  over  them  whatever.  The  only  thing 
he  could  do  was  to  withhold  their  letters  to  the  faculty  saying 
they  were  'O.  K. '  Well,  the  faculty  asked  for  the  letters.  There 
were  no  letters.  What!  no  letters?  'Then  you  can't  enter  Yale 
College,'  said  the  faculty,  and,  by  Jove,  they  were  just  cutting 
their  own  noses  off,  for  four  of  the  best  infield  Harvard  ever  has 
had  would  have  all  come  to  Yale  straight.  Yes,  sir!  Oh, 
Harvard  took  them  right  in,  you  bet  she  did!  She  knows  a  good 
thing  when  she  sees  it!  But  the  Yale  faculty  has  seen  Harvard, 
who  was  behind  us  in  numbers  in  '65,  walk  right  up  and  pass  us, 
and  I  attribute  it  entirely  to  baseball." 

"Of  course!"  was  the  general  assent,  for  the  car  was  full  of  ball 
players,  who  believed  the  world  revolved  around  the  green  diamond. 

"Yale  has  been  run  too  long  by  old  fogies  living  up  in  the  rural 
districts  of  Connecticut,"  said  Captain  Harding.  "It's  falling 
back  while  Harvard  is  pushing  ahead.  Yale  isn't  any  monastery, 
nor  are  we  all  going  to  be  ministers.  But  I  defy  anyone  to  tell 
me  of  any  institution  more  behind  the  age  than  Yale  is  to-day!  " 

"Oh,  I  can  tell  you  of  several!"  laughed  Stranahan.  "There's 
Union  and  Hamilton  and  Princeton  and  Amherst;  they  are  to  a 
still  greater  degree  run  by  the  old  fogies.  Yale  is  at  least  holding 
her  own,  and  I  believe  she's  going  to  take  a  great  leap  ahead  in  a 
few  years." 

"Yale  goes  ahead  or  falls  behind  just  as  the  University  nine 
wins  or  not — it's  the  best  weather  gauge  Yale  can  get,"  said  Hard 
ing,  "and  we're  going  to  change  things  next  summer,  sure,"  and 
he  looked  at  Harry  encouragingly. 

Stamp,  who  always  accompanied  the  boys  wherever  they  went, 
emitted  a  low  fierce  growl. 

"That's  the  talk,  old  boy,"  said  Harry,  laughing.  And  so  they 
reached  Hamilton  Park. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE      ANNUAL      RUSH. 

|HE  great  eventful  Saturday  of  the  annual 
rush  at  Hamilton  Park  came  at  last.  A 
ball  game  hi  which  Harry  pitched  and  Jack 
caught  for  the  freshmen  came  off  at  two,  and 
in  which  the  juniors,  who  had  out  an  in 
ferior  nine,  were  badly  beaten,  16-4.  They 
stopped  the  game  in  the  third  inning,  and 
the  excitement  began  in  earnest  as  the  two 
classes  stripped  and  prepared  for  the  great  rush. 

The  day  was  warm  and  clear.  There  were  rows  of  carriages,  for 
New  Haven  society  is  always  glad  to  turn  out  at  all  these  college 
affairs.  Pretty  girls  who  had  cousins  or  brothers  in  the  sopho 
more  or  freshman  class  were  pale  with  fear,  for  there  was  always 
a  great  deal  of  danger  connected  with  the  rush,  especially  to  small, 
slightly  built  men,  who  were  apt  to  fall  down  and  get  trampled 
on.  Far  to  the  north  and  west  loomed  up  the  rugged  front  of 
West  Rock,  and  the  fresh  wind  from  the  Sound  gave  the  air  a  cool, 
delicious  saltness  and  put  heart  into  the  men.  The  sophomores, 
five  deep,  formed  over  by  first  base  and  the  freshmen  behind 
the  home  plate.  The  seniors  marshaled  the  sophs,  and  the  juniors 
the  freshmen.  A  dozen  men  on  either  side  were  deputized  to  act 
as  "scouts,"  whose  duty  it  was  to  pull  men  out  of  the  opposing 
ranks  and  break  up  the  strength  of  the  on-rush  as  far  as  possible. 

Nearly  the  entire  college  was  present,  and  quantities  of 
"townies"  and  "micks"  and  some  Harvard  men  down  from  Cam 
bridge  and  Columbia  men  from  New  York  to  see  the  fun. 

The  soph  column,  with  three  'varsity  crew  men,  and  two  stout 
fellows  who  rowed  in  their  class  crew  in  the  front  rank,  with  Bob 


THE   ANNUAL   RUSH.  75 

Clark  as  bead  sccrit,  made  a  most  formidable  and  terrible  array. 
The  freshmen  put  their  tall  men  in  front,  and  some  of  them  were 
poor  material,  with  merely  length  without  breadth  or  thickness, 
but  they  outnumbered  the  sophs,  and  made  up  by  their  numbers 
what  they  lacked  in  strength.  Both  sides  locked  arms,  and  the 
outside  men  of  each  rank  had  their  arms  about  the  waists  of  the 
men  in  front  of  them.  It  made  two  solid  masses  of  men,  of  about 
125  on  one  side  and  150  on  the  other,  going  against  each  other  end 
on,  and,  as  someone  expressed  it,  "Something  was  bound  to  give 
way." 

The  two  front  ranks  leaned  back  on  a  slant,  and  the  ranks  behind 
them  stood  massed  together  in  a  solid  phalanx. 

"Umpty-three,  Umpty-three! "  shouted  the  oncoming  sophs, 
keeping  step. 

"  Umpty-f our,  Umpty-four!  "  answered  the  chorus  of  freshmen, 
with  their  lockstep  in  unison.  "  Whooper  up  for  Umpty-four!" 

The  heads  of  the  two  columns  slowly  and  with  terrible  earnest 
ness  came  together  end  on.  The  scouts  had  orders  not  to  get  in 
their  work  until  the  two  classes  jammed  together.  Jack  was  in 
the  third  rank  and  Harry  was  a  scout. 

"  Boom,  boom,  Umpty-four  !  " 

"  Come,  close  up  there  !  "  shouted  the  juniors  who  acted  as  mar 
shals,  "  close  up  !  "  and  they  went  skirmishing  around  the  fresh 
man  cohorts,  pressing  the  men  closer  together  and  advising  the 
scouts  or  skirmishers  how  to  "  hook  "  out  their  men  by  crooking 
their  elbows  around  their  necks  and  nearly  pulling  their  heads 
off. 

The  two  opposing  armies  drew  nearer  and  nearer.  A  great  hush 
fell  on  everyone.  There  was  Bob  Clark,  the  best  wrestler  ever  in 
college,  looking  like  a  fiend,  in  a  red  shirt,  with  fire  in  his  eye, 
crouching  as  he  came  along,  ready  like  a  tiger  to  leap  upon  the 
freshman  ranks.  There  was  the  fat  Holland,  still  maintaining  the 
leadership  of  his  class  and  giving  orders  which  men  much  his  su 
perior  in  athletic  affairs  obeyed  without  question.  They  said  his 
head  was  "level."  On  they  came  slowly,  moving  like  two  huge 
leviathans  on  the  green,  close-cut  turf.  As  the  ranks  came  within 


76  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

talking  distance  they  jeered  and  taunted  and  threatened  each  other 
with  instant  annihilation. 

"  Oh,  you  poor  fresh  !  You're  done  for  this  time  ! "  "  Say  your 
prayers,  freshmen,  we're  going  to  sweep  you  into  the  Sound  !  " 
"  Say  good-by  to  mamma,  freshy,"  etc.  The  freshmen  answered 
"  Umpty-fooooor  ! "  with  a  roar.  "  There'll  be  no  more  Umpty- 
three  after  to-day  !  "  "  Good-by,  sophies  !  " 

JVbw  !  They  came  within  five  feet,  three  feet,  then  an  impulse 
from  both  sides  and  from  behind,  and  they  were  pressing  each 
others'  life  out  ! 

"  Good  Heavens  !  I'm  flat  as  a  pancake  !  "  cried  Holland,  who 
was  so  fat  that  he  could  not  be  entirely  "squoze"  out  of  his  breath. 
The  front  rank  were  carried  up  in  the  air  off  their  feet  ;  the  next 
rank  could  just  touch  their  toes  to  the  ground  ;  the  third  rank  had 
the  hardest  squeeze,  and  all  the  while  each  side  behind  these  ranks 
were  shouting  cries  of  defiance  and  pushing  like  oxen. 

"  Shove,  freshmen,  shove  !  "  shouted  the  juniors,  who  had  gotten 
out  of  the  way. 

Neither  side  gave  way  exactly,  but  what  happened  was  that  they 
went  round  and  round  and  struggled  as  if  on  a  pivot,  the  scouts 
pulling  out  man  after  man  on  each  side,  and  as  the  grand  rush 
melted  up  into  a  promiscuous  shoving  and  hauling  a  number  of  in 
dividual  wrestling  matches  took  place.  Harry  found  himself  pitted 
against  the  redoubtable  Bob  Clark,  and  he  realized  that  a  ring  had 
been  formed  around  them  and  that  it  was  to  be  a  decisive  battle. 
Harry  had  already  achieved  a  reputation  second  only  to  Thornton 
in  his  class  as  a  wrestler,  and  Bob  Clark  was  famous  as  never  having 
been  yet  thrown  in  two  years.  By  this  time  Clark  had  his  red 
shirt  torn  half  off  his  broad  back,  and  the  perfect  oarsman's  "  barrel " 
showed  itself  plainly  through  it.  His  arms  were  small.  He  had 
very  little  "  beef."  But  for  strength,  wind,  depth  of  chest  and 
splendid  power  of  loins,  no  such  man  had  ever  entered  Yale  before. 
He  was  not  quite  as  tall  as  Harry,  and  our  hero's  agile  lithe  figure 
and  his  good  legs  would  have  seemed  to  an  ignorant  bystander  to 
be  fully  the  equals  of  the  great  Clark. 

They   "  felt "  for  each   other   for  a   few  moments,  then  came 


78  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

together,  then  appeared  to  "  teter"  for  a  moment,  dancing  about  on 
their  tiptoes,  and  then  came  the  crashing  fall — poor  Harry  was  under 
neath,  but  quick  as  a  cat  he  twisted  as  he  fell,  and  Bob  had  a  job  to 
get  him  on  his  back.  He  pulled  and  hauled  and  tugged,  but  Harry 
would  not  be  turned.  The  sweat  stood  out  on  their  foreheads.  But 
it  was  with  Harry  as  he  expected,  and  he  played  his  game.  He  stuck 
to  the  ground,  and  Bob  could  not  work  him  over  on  his  back  to 
save  his  life  !  Umpty-four  men  shouted  themselves  hoarse.  Once 
Harry  nearly  had  to  yield,  but  he  was  so  spry  that  he  was  on  his 
stomach  again  quickly,  and  Bob  Clark  had  the  job  to  do  over  again. 
He  clung  to  Bob's  legs,  "  like  a  kitten  to  a  hot  brick,"  as  the  juniors 
said,  and  at  last  Bob  said  good-naturedly  :  "  It's  an  all-day  job, 
freshman  ;  I'll  call  it  a  draw  !  " 

Then  Harry  jumped  to  his  feet.  He  had  no  shirt  on  at  all,  but 
his  flashing  eyes,  his  jolly  smile,  told  the  story,  It  was  the  proud 
est  moment  of  his  life. 

Then  the  classes  cheered  and  formed  again.  It  was  the  same 
thing  as  before,  only  harder  and  fiercer  and  more  earnest.  The 
freshmen  were  not  quite  so  scared.  They  realized  that  they  had 
greater  numbers,  and  if  they  kept  cool  they  could  hold  their  own. 
They  bumped  together  as  before  and  the  appearance  of  things  was 
a  little  changed. 

But  at  this  juncture,  as  the  freshmen  were  winning,  there  came 
the  dreadful  cry  : 

"  MAN  DOWN  !     MAN  DOWN  ! " 

A  freshman  had  fainted  in  the  heat  and  pressure  and  had  fallen  ; 
the  crowd  passed  over  his  body.  They  broke  ranks  and  lifted  him 
out.  They  thought  he  was  dead.  His  face  was  deathly  white,and 
his  tongue  hung  out  of  his  mouth.  His  name  was  Finck,  and  he 
was  the  boy  they  had  already  nicknamed  "  Baby  Finck  "  because 
he  cried  over  his  entrance  examination  with  his  father,  mother,  and 
sister.  But  he  had  been  brave  enough  in  the  rush.  He  was  in  the 
fourth  rank  both  times.  It  looked  as  if  he  had  had  a  fit. 

Two  or  three  surgeons  ran  up  as  he  lay  flat  on  his  back  on  the 
grass.  They  felt  him  over  and  found  that  he  had  two  ribs  broken 
and  his  foot  was  crushed.  Presently  he  came  to  and  called  faintly 


THE   ANNUAL   RUSH.  79 

"  Water  !  "  Finck's  catastrophe  precipitated  many  others.  A 
sophomore  fainted  and  had  to  be  carried  away.  Then  the  crowd 
of  sophs — half  of  them  shirtless  and  sans  culottes — made  for  the 
park  gate  on  the  run.  It  was  their  plan  to  hold  the  gateway  against 
the  freshmen  and  prevent  their  return  to  college. 

Bellamy  Storrs  and  "Big  "  Guthrie  led  their  class  toward  the 
side  gate.  The  main  gate  of  the  park  was  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  distant,  looking  toward  West  Rock,  but  the  side  gate  to  the 
east,  which  everyone  took  who  walked  in  from  the  ball  ground, 
consisted  of  one  large,  heavy  wooden  door  about  seven  feet  wide. 
The  high  wooden  fence  was  strongly  built,  and  if  the  freshmen 
could  not  break  through  the  sophomore  guard  they  would  be 
obliged  to  walk  away  over  to  the  other  entrance,  amid  the  jeers 
and  hootings  of  the  entire  college. 

The  sophomores  quickly  locked  the  gate  and  thrust  a  wooden 
stanchion  through  the  iron  latch.  They  then  formed  in  front  of 
the  gate  and  awaited  the  freshmen's  onset. 

The  freshmen  halted  at  a  little  distance  and  held  a  council  of 
war.  There  was  a  pile  of  timber  lying  at  the  side  of  the  race 
track  which  environed  the  ball  ground,  with  which  some  workmen 
were  repairing  the  track  fence.  Thornton  and  several  others  seized 
upon  a  long  stick  of  timber. 

"  I'll  show  you  how  to  get  through,"  cried  Thornton.  "  Here  ! 
form  on  this  stick,  and  then  make  a  charge  on  the  double-quick. 
I'll  warrant  there  won't  be  a  sophomore  who  will  stand  up  against 
the  gate  when  we  ram  this  through  the  crowd." 

As  the  freshmen  began  to  form  along  the  piece  of  timber  there 
was  evidently  some  commotion  in  the  sophomore  phalanx.  No  one 
seemed  to  be  particularly  willing  to  be  impaled  on  the  end  of  that 
formidable  looking  ram,  and  as  the  freshmen  moved  forward  faster 

O  t 

and  faster  there  was  evidently  great  consternation. 

A  body  of  sophs  came  out  and  met  the  freshmen,  and  tried  to 
arrest  their  progress.  But  the  freshmen  had  learned  a  thing  or 
two,  by  this  time,  and  their  skirmishers  tackled  the  sophomores 
and  kept  them  busy,  while  the  main  body,  led  by  Thornton,  kept 
on  their  way. 


8o 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


As  they  neared  the  gate  with  their  ram  they  broke  into  a  fast 
trot.  Nothing  could  withstand  them,  except  perhaps  a  stone  wall 
ten  feet  thick ! 

Thornton  as  captain   shouted  his  orders:  "All  together,  now ! 

Let  her  go!" 

The  sophs  broke  right 
and  left.  The  ram  struck 
the  gate  near  the  lock,  and 
the  whole  affair  broke  off 
its  hinges.  The  freshmen, 
with  a  loud  shout,  burst 
through  and  out  of  the 
park,  shouting  "Oh,  my 
poor  Soph!"  It  was  a  great 
and  glorious  victory — and 
the  sophs  seemed  crestfallen. 
On  the  way  home,  Bob 
Clark,  Storrs,  and  other  big 
sophs  wrestled  nearly  every 
strong  freshman  there  was 
in  the  class.  Storrs  was 
thrown  twice  by  Thornton 
and  once  by  Harry,  but  the 
great  Bob  maintained  his 
supremacy.  It  was  an 
eventful  day  for  him,  be 
cause  it  gave  him  a  great 
reputation  in  college — he 
had  not  been  present,  for 
some  reason,  at  the  rush  of 
the  year  before.  He  threw 
Jack  Rives  with  the  ease  of  a  man  tossing  a  child.  He  threw 
Thornton  after  a  hard  struggle. 

"Lambda  Chi"  Briggs  was  red-haired  and  full  of  enthusiasm, 
but  Jack  and  Harry  both  threw  him,  as  they  threw  Caswell  and 
Thompson  and  Holland,  without  much  difficulty.  All  along  the 


JACK   RIVES   HAD   TO   GO   HOME   IN   A 
LINEN   DUSTER. 


THE   AX N UAL   RUSH.  8 1 

grassy  sides  of  the  street  were  wrestling,  lighting,  and  grimy 
students,  half  their  clothes  torn  off  their  backs.  Jack  Rives  had 
to  walk  home  in  a  linen  duster;  he  had  lost — everything  but 
honor!  But  he  was  full  of  that!  Everyone — seniors,  juniors, 
theologues,  townies — admitted  that  it  was  a  great  day  for  the  new 
class  of  Umpty-four.  As  they  neared  the  city,  they  formed  two 
by  two,  and  sang: 

Here's  to  Umpty-four 

Drink  her  down,  drink  her  down  ! 
Here's  to  Umpty-four, 
For  she  licked  the  Sophomore, 

Drink  her  down  !  down  !  down  ! 

And  so  the  great  rush  ended,  and  poor  Finck  was  carried  home 
in  a  hack,  proud  of  the  glorious  victory  and  happy  in  the  thought 
that  he  had  given  a  few  ribs  and  a  leg  to  the  cause.  As  his  class 
saw  him  carried  by,  the  enthusiasm,  as  he  waved  his  handkerchief 
at  them,  was  something  tremendous. 

Those  good  old  days  at  Yale !  There  are  no  such  massed  rushes 
now,  no  such  royal  battles  for  supremacy.  Class  feeling  is  to  a 
certain  extent  dying  out.  Perhaps  it  is  best  so,  but  college  life 
in  those  famous  days  of  fighting  and  dare-deviltry  for  class  honor 
was  someth'T]g  far  more  exciting  and  interesting  than  it  can  ever 
be  again.  These  dull  modern  days  are  more  virtuous,  but  are 
they  as  jolly  or  eventful? 


THEY  WENT  ROUND  AND  KOUND. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

LAMBDA    CHI. 

A  FEW  weeks  after  the  grand  rush  at  Hamilton  Park  the  two 
chums  were  sitting  in  their  room  one  evening  by  their  study 
lamp.     Harry  was  just  finishing  a  letter  to  his  mother,  as  follows: 

MY  DEAR  MOTHER  : 

Now  we  are  all  settled  in  our  rooms  on  York  Street  at  Mrs.  Gimly's, 
and  I  may  as  well  tell  you  exactly  what  is  the  routine  of  our  daily  life.  We 
rise  about  seven.  Mrs.  Gimly  rings  a  great  bell  in  the  hall,  then  we  bathe, 
box  a  little,  and  dress,  and  go  out  to  our  eating  club  a  little  further  down  the 
street.  At  7.45  o'clock  we  go  to  chapel,  which  is  over  in  about  twenty  min 
utes.  (It  might  be  over  sooner  and  not  be  missed.)  Then  from  chapel  we  go 
immediately  to  recitation  in  the  Athenaeum — very  comfortable  wooden  benches 
to  sit  on  !  This  lasts  an  hour.  Then  we  go  to  our  rooms  and  study  until 
11.30,  when  we  have  our  second  recitation  of  an  hour,  then  at  one  we  dine. 
In  the  afternoon  we  go  out  and  play  ball  at  Hamilton  Park  or  row  on  the 
harbor.  At  five  is  our  third  recitation  of  an  hour,  and  at  six  we  have  supper. 
After  supper  we  generally  walk  down  to  the  post  office,  and  perhaps  play  a 
game  of  billiards  at  Bill  Noodle's.  Then  home  and  study,  and  bed  about 
eleven.  Saturday  nights  we  have  D.  K.,  which  keeps  us  up  debating  until 
twelve,  sometimes.  I'm-  told  this  system  of  recitation  hours  is  the  same  for 
all  classes.  So  good-by.  Your  loving  son, 

HARRY. 

P.  S.  Please  send  me  fifty  dollars.  I  need  it  for — lots  of  things.  Tell  Kit 
to  work  me  a  slipper  case  for  our  room. 

Stamp  was  lying  with  his  head  half  out  of  his  kennel  and  one 
eye  open,  blinking. at  his  masters,  who  were  grinding  away  over 
their  Euclid  and  their  Homer's  Iliad;  the  clock  had  struck  10, 
then  10.30,  then  11.  "By  Jove!  I'm  awful  sleepy!"  yawned 
Jack.  "I  can't  work  any  more.  I  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Harry;  I'll 
run  down  to  Brood's  or  Gus  Lager's  with  you  and  have  something 

82 


LAMBDA    CHI.  83 

and  then  go  to  bed,  or  I'll  go  to  bed  now,  or  [laughingly]  I'll  go 
and  get  into  the  chapel  and  cut  the  bellows  of  the  organ  with  you, 
or  I'll- 

Ilarry  did  not  finish,  for  Stamp  uttered  a  low  growl  and  began 
to  sniff  at  a  window. 

"Hi,  Stamp!  lie  down!"  cried  Jack.  Stamp  began  to  sniff 
again  in  the  direction  of  one  of  the  windows.  He  ran  out  of  his 
box  the  length  of  his  chain.  At  the  same  moment  the  sash  was 
thrust  up  violently  and,  one  after  another,  half  a  do/en  masked 
men  leaped  into  the  room,  holding  ropes  in  their  hands.  A  ladder 
had  evidently  been  placed  against  the  building,  and  Mrs.  Gimly's 
faithful  surveillance  had  been  thus  avoided.  Harry  jumped  for 
the  door  quick  as  a  flash,  but  one  of  the  masked  men  was  ahead  of 
him  and  stood  with  his  back  against  it. 

"Freshmen  !  if  you  resist  3^011  will  be  instantly  killed  !  "  said  the 
leader  of  the  gang  in  a  hollow  voice,  displaying  a  silver-mounted 
revolver.  Jack  answered,  laughing:  "Then  let's  die  while  fight 
ing  for  liberty!  "  and  he  made  a  rush  at  the  pistol  holder  and  tore 
his  mask  off.  Beneath  his  mask  he  had  blackened  his  face — it  was 
Caswell! 

It  was  a  hard  tussle  with  the  two  wiry,  strong  young  freshmen, 
but  at  last  they  were  bound  and  gagged.  They  yelled  and  howled, 
but  the  sophs  were  too  many  for  them.  The  other  freshmen  in 
the  house  thought  it  was  only  an  ordinary  rumpus  with  the  gloves, 
which  Jack  and  Harry  and  their  friends  were  very  frequently 
engaged  in.  Stamp's  barking  caused  Thornton  to  wonder  a  little 
at  the  affair  as  he  turned  over  in  bed  in  the  room  above;  so  he  got 
up  and  looked  out  of  the  window.  Two  hacks  were  standing  in 
front  of  the  boarding  house.  A  ladder  was  placed  against  the 
house,  and  the  light  was  streaming  from  Rives  and  Chestleton's 
open  window.  He  could  not  understand  this;  he  had  no  light,  so 
he  quietly  opened  his  window,  partly  dressed,  and  leaned  out. 

Presently  he  observed  three  masked  men  come  to  the  window 
bearing  a  figure  muffled  in  a  dark  cloak.  Two  more  came  up  from 
the  hack,  holding  a  ladder,  and  between  them  they  slowly  let  down 
the  muffled  figure  and  deposited  it  in  one  of  the  hacks.  Then  fol- 


84  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

lowed  another  struggle  at  the  window,  and  a  second  body  was  in 
like  manner  carried  down  and  the  whole  party  drove  off.  Thorn 
ton  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes.  He  raised  the  cry  "  Lambda.Chi ! 
Lambda  Chi!  Umpty-four!"  and  other  freshmen  came  running 
into  the  room.  Thornton  hustled  on  his  clothes,  and,  shouting 
for  the  others  to  hurry  after  him,  started  out  in  the  rain  to  follow 
the  two  hacks.  They  had,  he  saw,  galloped  away  down  York  and 
up  Elm.  Thornton  was  after  them  on  a  dead  run.  He  passed  a 
boarding  house  in  which  were  a  dozen  freshmen,  most  of  them 
strong,  stout  young  fellows,  some  of  them  up  studying.  He 
shouted  up  to  the  windows,  never  letting  up,  however,  on  his 
steady,  swift  stride: 

"Lambda  Chi!  Lambda  Chi!  They've  got  Rives  and  Chest 
nuts  [Harry's  nickname]  in  a  hack!  Hurry  up!  Hurry  up!  For 
God's  sake,  hurry!" 

Several  freshmen  rushed  out  into  the  street  pell-mell,  until  there 
were  some  thirty  strung  along,  following  the  sturdy  pace  of  Thorn 
ton,  who  kept  the  two  hacks  in  sight.  For  half  an  hour  they  kept 
up  a  steady  jog. 

The  hacks  reached  Westville,  a  small  hamlet  at  the  foot  of 
West  Rock,  where  they  stopped  before  a  lager  beer  saloon  and 
some  of  the  men  got  out.  Thornton  came  up  a  few  minutes  later 
in  good  shape,  but  he  felt  hardly  able  to  cope  with  six  or  seven 
sophs  and  waited  for  the  re-enforcements. 

It  was  now  raining  in  earnest.  In  a  few  moments  several  fresh 
men  came  running  up.  Thornton  told  two  of  them  in  a  whisper 
to  get  up  on  the  rear  of  the  hack.  He  detailed  another,  Coles,  a 
stout  fellow,  to  slip  around  in  the  darkness  and  mount  the  hack  in 
front  as  soon  as  it  started  off.  Thornton's  plan  was  to  climb  up 
over  the  back  of  the  hack,  knock  the  driver  off  his  seat,  and  take 
the  reins. 

Presently  off  they  started.  Coles  ran  and  succeeded  in  climbing 
on  the  rear  axletree  of  the  forward  hack,  which  "Barney,"  a  hack- 
man  who  had  often  taken  part  in  these  student  performances 
before,  was  driving.  He  was  a  stout,  smiling,  jolly  Irishman,  with 
a  fat,  good-natured  face.  Old  Yale  men  remember  "Barney" 


LAMBDA    CHI.  85 

very  well,  when  he  had  the  best  "rig"  and  pair  in  New  Haven 
and  used  to  stand  out  in  front  of  the  New  Haven  House  and  lau«h 


and  joke  with  his  soph  friends.  lie  scorned  freshmen  always,  and 
regarded  juniors  as  too  high  toned.  Hut  he  was  always  hand  and 
glove  with  the  soph  campaign  committees  of  D.  K.,  and  he  had  in 


86  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

his  day  stolen  many  a  young  "sub,"  and  before  he  had  done  with 
him  seen  that  he  was  pledged  "the  right  way" — to  jolly  Delta 
Kap. 

Inside  the  hacks  the  sophs,  who  had  provided  themselves  with 
bottles  of  whisky,  began  to  get  very  noisy.  Each  party  began  to 
sing  and  shout  for  Umpty-three  and  the  glorious  "  Omega  Lambda 
Chi."  The  hacks  rapidly  drew  out  of  Westville,  followed  the 
main  turnpike  eastward  for  a  mile  or  two,  and  then  turned  off  to 
the  right.  It  looked  very  much  as  if  the  plan  was  to  have  the 
initiation  ceremonies  of  Lambda  Chi  on  the  top  of  West  Rock. 

When  they  reached  a  sandy  hill  Thornton,  telling  his  two  com 
rades  to  make  as  little  noise  as  possible  when  he  gave  the  signal  to 
"knock  out"  the  driver,  went  ahead  to  assist  Coles  with  the 
stronger  and  more  difficult  Barney.  Coles  was  ready  for  him,  and 
as  the  horses  panted  up  the  hill  ran  to  their  heads.  Thornton 
gave  the  signal,  and  leaping  on  the  forward  wheel  grabbed  the 
astonished  Barney  by  the  collar  and  had  him  sprawling  on  the 
ground  before  he  knew  where  he  was.  Coles  meanwhile  had 
quietly  turned  the  horses  around,  and  he  and  Thornton,  grasping 
the  reins,  drove  off  down  the  hill  at  a  top  gallop.  The  rear  hack 
was  turned  in  the  same  way  and  came  flying  down  the  hill  after 
them. 

Inside,  the  sophs,  with  their  prisoners,  kept  up  their  drinking 
and  singing,  and  as  it  was  now  raining  much  harder  they  had  the 
windows  up  and  were  entirely  ignorant  of  their  capture.  Thorn 
ton  headed  toward  New  Haven  and  soon  met  a  large  crowd  of  fresh 
men,  who  had  been  roused  from  their  beds  and  had  come  out  to 
the  rescue.  They  stopped  the  hacks  and  held  a  consultation. 
What  should  they  do  with  their  prisoners?  They  formed  a  guard 
around  the  hacks  and  opened  the  doors.  "NoAV,  fellers,  tak  'em 
(hie)  out  and  let's  do  'em.  Bai'ney,  Bar-ney!  Where's  Barney, 
fellers?"  came  in  uncertain  tones  from  the  inmates,  who  thought 
they  were  on  the  top  of  West  Rock. 

"Stay  inside!"  growled  Thornton  to  the  sophs,  as  he  and  his 
freshmen  friends  helped  Jack  out  and  untied  the  cord  that  bound 
his  hands  and  feet.  Others  had  taken  out  Harry,  who  was  almost 


LAMBDA    CHI.  87 

suffocated  with  the  handkerchief  gag  that  was  tied  in  his  mouth. 
The  sophs  saw  the  game  was  up. 

"What  shall  we  do  with  them?"  shouted  Thornton.  "Let's 
take  a  vote.  All  those  in  favor  of  Lambda  Chi-ing  the  sophs  say 
aye!" 

"Aye!"  came  with  one  voice. 

There  were  nine  sophomores  in  all,  and  the  task  seemed  on  the 
whole  too  difficult.  They  then  decided  to  drive  in  on  the  campus, 
and  procure  sufficient  rope  to  tie  the  sophs  to  trees  and  leave  them 
there  all  night.  While  they  were  in  the  midst  of  this  discussion 
one  of  the  sophomores — got  away,  and  made  a  break  for  South 
Middle,  where  they  were  well  aware  he  would  rouse  a  rescue 
party  as  soon  as  possible.  Most  of  the  captured  sophs  were  by 
this  time  half  maudlin  with  bad  liquor,  and  would  be  capable  of 
no  great  resistance.  The  question  was  what  to  do  with  them 
during  the  night.  Harry  and  Jack  were  each  fierce  to  "put  them 
through  "  in  retaliation  for  the  indignity  of  being  dragged  out  of 
their  rooms  and  bound  and  gagged.  It  Avas  a  fair  capture,  and 
the  sophs  were  their  lawful  prey. 

"Hoo-ray  for  Omega  Lambda  Chi!"  shouted  one  of  the  sophs. 

"Come  on  (hie),  fellers,  le's  put  'em  through,  le's  have  every- 
thin'.  Hi !  Bar-nay  !" 

It  was  the  ex-Lambda  Chi  man  of  Umpty-three,  Briggs,  who 
escaped  them,  and  they  knew  Briggs  well  enough  to  expect  he 
would  rouse  the  entire  sophomore  class  and  be  back  again  in  a 
hurry  if  they  didn't  get  their  prisoners  away.  It  was  therefore 
quickly  decided  to  carry  the  sophs  off  to  some  out-of-the-way  barn 
in  the  suburbs  and  stand  guard  over  them  till  morning,  and  initiate 
them  at  their  leisure  on  the  following  night. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    SOPHS    ARE    DISCOMFITED. 

F  course  next  day  there  was  a  tremendous  stir  in  college 
over  the  absence  of  the  eight  sophs.  The  freshmen 
knew  nothing  about  them,  naturally,  and  the  sophs 
had  kept  the  "Lambda  Chi-ing"  of  Harry  and 
Jack  such  a  secret  that  only  those  whom  Briggs  had 
roused  from  bed  knew  anything  about  it.  But-as  the 
day  wore  on  the  most  Avild  and  exaggerated  accounts  of  the  whole 
affair  spread  like  wildfire.  The  inflammable  Lambda  Chi  Briggs 
got  out  a  poster  which  he  plastered  over  all  the  elms  in  the  cam 
pus.  Naturally  they  attracted  considerable  attention.  But  as 
everyone  knew  crazy  old  Briggs  pretty  well,  they  believed  gener 
ally  he  had  been  "stuffed  "  by  wicked  juniors. 

One  thing  was  certain.  That  was  that  Caswell,  Holland,  Storrs, 
Stranahan,  and  four  more  sophs  were  not  to  be  found  in  their 
rooms,  nor  had  they  been  seen  since  the  preceding  night,  when 
they  were  observed  bargaining  with  "  Barney,"  the  hackman,  in 
front  of  the  New  Haven  House.  Then  the  facts  gradually  leaked 
out.  The  upper-class  men  laughed  and  applauded  the  freshmen. 
"Served  'em  right!"  they  said.  Barney  turned  up  late  in  the 
afternoon,  very  sore  and  angry,  saying  that  "he'd  get  even  with 
somebody  some  day." 

Where  were  the  sophomores  ? 

The  freshmen,  not  to  be  outdone,  got  out  a  counter  poster  in  the 
afternoon,  disclaiming  all  knowledge  of  their  disappearance.  It 
was  delicately  hinted  that  the  sophs,  disgusted  at  their  defeat  in 
the  great  rush,  had  driven  themselves  off  the  end  of  Long  Wharf 
into  New  Haven  harbor,  or  perhaps  had  debased  themselves  to 
such  a  degree  as  to  apply  for  entrance  to  Harvard  ! 


THE    SOPHS  ARE   DISCOMFITED.  89 

By  nightfall  every  student  outside  the  freshman  class  and  many 
in  it — to  whom  the  secret  of  their  hiding  place  was  not  known — 
were  prowling  about  the  outskirts  of  New  Haven,  peering  into  out 
houses  and  barns,  asking  all  manner  of  questions.  Mrs.  Gimly 
put  on  her  bonnet  and  shawl  and  went  across  York  Street  to  see 
Mrs.  McGuiness. 

"  Did  ye  hear  the  news?  "  she  asked,  with  a  gleeful  smile. 

"  Good-day,  Mrs.  Gimly.  Do  yez  mane  about  thim  bastes  bein' 
suitable  come  up  with  ?  " 

"  I  do.  Them  limbs  o'  Satan,  Mr.  Caswell,  Mr.  Holland,  an'  their 
pals — them  softmoores." 

"  Have  they  been  found  yet  ?  Bad  luck  to  them  for  stealin' 
away  two  of  yer  best  lodgers,  Mrs.  Gimly.  Oh,  Oi'm  not  fer 
savin'  it's  not  for  the  best,  shure.  Axe  thim  lodgers  o'  yourn  ; 
they  knows.  Axe  thim  ;  they  can  tell  a  thing  or  two.  Arrah, 
byes  '11  be  byes  ;  they've  the  softmoores  hid  away." 
"  "  Where  ?  " 

"  Did  yez  look  in  yer  cellar,  Mrs.  Gimly  ?  " 

"My  cellar?" 

"  Why  fer  no  ?     P'r'aps  they're  there  !  " 

Mrs.  Gimly  gave  a  cry  of  astonishment. 

"Mrs.  Gimly,  Oi  tell  no  lies  ;  'twas  me  see  arly  this  mornin'. 
Oi  woke  up  an'  me  bid  is  forninst  the  windy  in  the  garrit,  an'  Oi 
see  two  hacks  druv  up,  an'  Oi  see  in  the  strate  lamplight,  which 
they  soon  turned  out — bad  luck  to  'em  ! — Oi  see  there  was  scufflin' 
and  shovin'  an'  a  fracas.  At  three  o'clock  this  mornin' — shure — I 
thought  I  see  them  lift  the  cellar  door — but  it's  in  confidence  Oi 
tell  yez." 

Mrs.  Gimly  then  went,  excitedly,  flying  back  to  her  house  as 
fast  as  her  rheumatic  old  legs  would  carry  her.  She  had  a  horror 
of  sophomores,  and  the  bare  thought  of  their  being  locked  up  over 
night  in  her  cellar,  and  being  hid  away  there  all  day,  naturally 
gave  her  the  "  shakes  and  shivers,"  as  she  said.  She  first  fright 
ened  poor,  pale,  weak-eyed  Samanthy  out  of  her  five  wits  by  seiz 
in  u  her  arm  and  whispering  in  her  ear  in  a  low  hiss:  "There's 
softmoores  in  the  house  !  " 


COLLEGE   DA  VS. 


Samanthy   nearly   tottered   against   the    door  in  a  faint.     The 
college  chapel  bell  had  just  finished  ringing  for  five  o'clock  recita 
tions,  and  the  house  was 
as  still  as  a  church. 

"What  shall  we  do? 
What  shall  we  do  ? " 
cried  Samanthy,  agon 
ized. 

"If  it  is  so,  it's  a  time 
for  Professor  Shepard, 
an'  him  alone,"  said  her 
mother.  "Oh, them  limbs 
— to  get  into  my  cellar!" 
She  lit  a  candle  and 
timorously  made  her  way 
down  the  cellar  stairs, 
and  peered  around  in  the 
darkness. 

«  Say— air  you— there  ?" 
she  asked. 

Oh,  unutterable  hor 
ror  !  They  heard  from 
the  further  corner  a  stifled 
groan.  Samanthy  flew 
upstairs  and  locked  her 
self  in  her  room.  In  the 
dark  corner  of  the  cellar 
a  dog  growled  r-r-r-r  ! 
It  sounded  like  the  ugly 
but  efficient  Stamp. 
Mrs.  Gimly  continued  calling  into  the  cellar,  but  to  her  repeated 
"  Who  be  ye  ?  "  a  feeble  moan  was  the  only  response.  She  went 
back,  and  having  lit  a  candle  went  down  again.  There,  on  some 
hay,  lay  five  young  men,  securely  bound  with  ropes.  They  were 
all  sound  asleep.  At  one  side,  guarding  them,  was  Stamp.  He 
seemed  to  regard  Mrs.  Gimly  as  a  friend — the  giver  of  former 


:  LAMBDA   CHI  !  " 


THE    SOPHS  ARE  DISCOMFITED. 


91 


beef  bones — and  as  lie  came  forward  wagged  his  tail  in  friendly 
recognition.     "Land  sakes  !"  cried  Mrs.  Giiuly,  "who  be  ye?" 

No  one  answered. 

Mrs.  Girnly  went  upstairs  to  call  Samanthy,  but  she  was  out. 
The  freshmen  were  all  at  afternoon  recitation.  She  saw  Policeman 
McCrea  across  the  way  , 

and  hailed  him. 

"Come  over,  an'  go  in 
my  cellar  and  turn  them 
men  loose  ! "  she  cried 
excitedly.  "  Them  men, 
five  on  'em,  tied  together 
an'  hid  away  !  Go  right 
down,  you,  and  find  out 
who  they  be.  I  suspicion 
they  be  softmoores." 

"  What  be  I  fer  to  go 
down  an'  be  shot  ?  I'm 
a  N'Haven  police  for  to 
do  strate  duty.  Lave  the 
cellar  dure  open,  and 
wance  they're  in  the  strate 
Oi'll  tak'  'em  in  fer  burg 
lary." 

Mrs.  Gimly  returned 
and  called,  but  Stamp 
was  faithful  to  his  trust. 
The  first  sophomore  who 
moved  received  from  him 
a  low  growl  and  a  fierce  snap.  "Go  up  and  get  him  a  bone!" 
called  out  another  soph  sleepily.  "I  say,  where  are  we,  fellers?" 

"In  Mrs.  Girnly's  cellar,"  was  CaswelTs  dry  reply. 

Just  then  Mrs.  Gimly  reappeared  with  a  bone,  and  lured  Stamp 
up  outside  and  so  into  the  house.  It  was  the  work  of  a  few 
moments  for  Caswell  to  free  himself,  and  then  in  turn  to  free  his 
four  friends. 


POLICEMAN    MCCKEA. 


92  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"  If  we  hadn't  been — well,  if  we  hadn't  dallied  too  much  with  the 
wine  cup  and  fooled  too  much  over  mixed  drinks,  we'd  been  all 
right,"  said  Caswell  ruefully. 

When  the  sophs  emerged  from  the  cellar  they  presented  a  most 
miserable  appearance.  The  clothes  they  wore  were  old  and  well- 
worn,  but  now  they  were  in  rags,  and  Caswell's  sleeves  were 
literally  torn  out  at  the  armpits.  Policeman  McCrea  promptly 
arrested  them  and  hustled  them  along  York  Street  toward  Chapel. 

"  Where  are  you  taking  us,  you  infernal  old  loafer  ?  "  bawled  out 
Caswell,  who  jerked  his  arm  free. 

"Oi'm  a-taking  yez  in  ;  thet's  where.  To  the  station-house  yez 
go,  and  if  yez  go  quiet,  all  right,  but  if  yez  is  disorderly  Oi'll  bat 
yez  all  in  the  heads  ;  aye,  an'  carry  yez  in  before  the  justice  feet 
foremost." 

It  was,  fortunately,  during  afternoon  recitation  hour,  and  there 
were  no  students  present  to  see  the  sophs'  discomfiture.  They  were 
now  thoroughly  roused  to  the  situation,  and  had  no  idea  of  being 
arrested  and  "  taken  in."  As  they  passed  Library  Street — a  street 
leading  down  to  the  colleges — Caswell  struck  the  "peeler"  a  ring 
ing  blow  square  in  the  left  optic  and  shouted  "Break  away,  boys  !  " 
Each  one  of  the  five  started  in  a  different  direction.  Policeman 
McCrea  stood  up  against  the  fence  perfectly  dazed.  He  wanted  to 
run  in  five  different  directions,  but  did  not  seem  to  know  how  to 
accomplish  it.  Then  he  began  to  rap  on  the  sidewalk  with  his 
"billy  "  for  assistance.  It  was  a  laughable  sight,  and  the  crowd 
began  to  jeer  him.  Apparently  he  couldn't  stand  that,  and  so  set 
out  in  chase  of  a  soph  up  York  Street.  He  had  got  as  far  as  the 
D.  K.  E.  Hall  when  he  stopped,  out  of  breath.  By  this  time  the 
sophs  were  all  safely  out  of  danger,  and  the  great  affair  of  the 
Omega  Lambda  Chi  was  over  for  that  time. 


CHAPTER   XL 


THE    FALL    BOAT    RACES. 

UTUMN  is  apt  to  be  clear,  bracing,  and  gener 
ally  delightful  all  along  the  pleasant  Long 
Island  Sound.  There  are  few  wet  clays  after 
the  "  freshman  rains,"  or  "  equinoctial  storm" 
as  others  call  it,  which  occur  about  the  second 
week  of  the  college  year.  October  is  a  genial, 
mellow  month,  brimful  of  luscious  fruit,  wild 
grapes,  and  watermelons,  and  the  air  is  just  right  for  all  sorts  of 
outdoor  life.  There  is  a  rich,  smoky  tone  in  the  landscape  across 
the  long  wide  salt  marshes.  The  nights  are  cool;  the  days  inviting 
for  long  rambles  in  the  woods. 

A  week  later  they  elected  Harry  captain  by  about  ten  majority  at 
the  class  meeting  held  in  Tutor  Smile's  recitation  rooms.  The  And- 
over  "  crowd"  carried  the  class,  as  they  generally  do  at  Yale,  and  for 
several  days  Harry  devoted  himself  to  selecting  a  nine.  The  plan 
was  to  play  a  few  games  with  other  classes  in  the  fall,  and  keep 
the  nine  in  a  sort  of  semi-training  through  the  winter.  Some  time 
in  June  they  played  the  Harvard  freshmen,  and  the  record  showed 
that  they  very  generally  won.  Jack  Rives,  who  was  accustomed 
to  the  water,  had  naturally  taken  to  rowing  at  first.  He  was 
strong  and  plucky,  and  in  the  first  freshman  crew  chosen  for  the 
fall  races  at  Lake  Saltonstall  in  the  ensuing  October.  Men  got  on 
the  crew  then  who  afterward  were  never  heard  of  on  the  water— 
clumsy  men,  thick-waisted  men,  with  narrow'  chests  and  scarecrow 
backs,  who  never  could  pull  their  weight. 

The  freshmen  crew  always  did  well  at  Saltonstall,  however, 
showing  the  effect  of  pure  ambition  triumphing  over  obstacles! 
It  was  before  the  days  of  the  HCAV  boathouse,  and  the  training  had 
to  be  done  from  the  old,  barnlike  structure  near  the  steamboat 


94  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

wharf.  The  freshmen  were  taken  in  hand  by  Bob  Clark,  and  their 
first  row  in  the  barge  made  most  of  them  wish  they  had  never 
indulged  in  any  aquatic  ambitions.  They  came  home  with  sore 
hands  and  lame  backs.  Rowing  was  a  terribly  serious  business 
with  Bob.  "Eyes  in  the  boat  there,  freshmen!"  "Now,  all  get 
together!"  "Is  this  the  best  six  men  [they  rowed  sixes  in  those 
days]  you've  got?  Why,  you'll  never  move  the  boat  over  the 
first  mile!"  With  that  the  poor  freshmen  would  splash  and 
splutter,  and  Bob  would  say  in  anguish:  "I  can  call  any  six  men 
in  off  the  street  who  will  do  better  than  you !  " 

On  one  of  these  mellow,  sweet  October  afternoons  the  college 
races  took  place  at  Lake  Saltonstall.  This  is  a  dainty  sheet  of 
water  a  few  miles  to  the  eastward  of  New  Haven.  It  is  not  two 
miles  long,  but  it  is  set  like  a  jewel  in  the  wooded  hills.  Hither 
about  noon  on  race  day  all  the  population  of  New  Haven  betook 
itself.  It  was  in  old  days  the  Derby  T)a,y  of  New  Haven.  The 
dusty  road  was  full  of  carriages  and  glittered  with  the  bright 
gowns  an  sunshades  of  pretty  girls. 

In  the  fall  and  the  spring  this  laughing,  shouting,  cheering 
migration  to  Saltonstall  took  place;  the  thousand  students  and 
their  friends,  their  girls  and  mothers,  aunts  and  sisters.  On  these 
days  Yale  was  only  aquatic.  Everyone  more  or  less  "knowing" 
about  "strokes"  and  sliding  seats,  which  at  the  time  we  speak  of 
were  something  new  in  America. 

The  battle  betwixt  the  sophomores  and  the  freshmen  was  now  to 
be  transferred  from  land  to  water,  and  the  sophomores  were,  as 
usual,  sure  of  carrying  the  big  class  race  at  Lake  Saltonstall. 
They  were  rowing  in  good  form  in  their  barge  over  the  waters  of 
Quinippiac  and  the  harbor,  while  every  mothers'  son  of  the  fresh 
men,  under  Captain  Clark,  who  was  trying  to  coach  them,  rolled 
out  of  the  boat.  Of  course  they  could  not  aspire  to  shell  form,  so 
they  were  to  row  in  an  old  black  barge  called  the  Black  Maria. 
It  .was  a  famous  barge,  however,  and  though  old  and  very  heavy, 
was  built  on  capital  lines,  and  when  once  got  going  (but  there  was 
the  rub)  was  a  hard  boat  to  beat.  It  had  belonged  to  the  Yale 
navy  from  time  immemorial. 


THE   FALL   BOAT  RACES.  95 

Jack  Rives  went  on  the  crew  as  No.  2.  He  had  never  been  on 
any  crew  before,  but  lie  was  used  to  the  water.  He  knew  how  to 
row,  he  thought.  He  could  "yank"  an  oar.  He  had  rowed  his 
sister  about  on  the  Hudson  River.  lie  had  rowed,  too,  on  the 
pretty  little  Adirondack  Lake  where  his  father  had  a  "camp" 
every  summer.  He  had  fished  and  lived  days  on  the  water  and 
could  swim  like  a  duck.  Consequently  he  thought  he  knew  every 
thing  there  was  to  know  about  rowing.  The  freshman  crew  was  a 
queer  lot.  Thornton,  a  tall,  handsome,  strong  lad,  with  down  on 
his  chin,  and  modest  blue  eyes,  pulled  stroke.  An  old  fellow  over 
thirty  years,  solid  and  stiff  as  an  ox,  pulled  No.  5.  He  wore  a 
long  red  beard  and  his  name  was  Grannis,  from  Kankakee,  111.  He 
had  been  a  school-teacher  in  the  far  West.  The  sophs  jeered  at 
him  as  they  rowed  past  in  the  harbor  one  day  and  called  him  "The 
Lone  Fisherman."  Grannis  dug  his  oar  in  the  water  and  grit  his 
teeth.  No.  4  was  Bullock — a  disappointment  in  the  race.  Bul 
lock  looked  like  a  beautiful  oarsman;  he  was  wrell  set  up,  broad 
backed,  very  muscular  arms  and  legs;  but  he  had  no  grit — lie  was 
a  coward.  He  gave  up  at  the  slightest  pumping. 

Their  bow  oar  was  a  tall,  slim  fellow,  who  had  distinguished 
himself  the  summer  before  as  one  of  the  most  graceful  dancers  at 
Newport.  He  could  dance — and  they  found  he  could  pull  too. 
He  was  light  and  slender — a  city-bred  boy  of  rich  New  York 
parentage.  He  had  shot  up  very  tall  at  an  early  age;  and  he  was 
chosen  as  being  of  the  right  size.  De  Koven  was  that  rare  combi 
nation — a  great  stickler  for  etiquette  and  good  form,  and  yet  at 
the  same  time  plucky  and  full  of  the  sublimest  cheek.  Such  was 
the  great  freshman  crew  of  Umpty-f our !  Long  may  its  glory 
wave ! 

The  "Gimly  gang"  on  York  Street  hired  three  barouches  and 
went  out  carrying  long  streaming  banners  with  "  Umpty-f  our, 
with  a  roar.  Oh,  we  can  down  the  sophomore!  "  on  them. 

They  started  off  from  York  Street  with  a  great  flourish  of 
horns. 

The  "sophomore  crowd"  started  off  on  a  stage  coach  and  four 
from  the  fence  corner  just  as  the  freshman  hacks  hove  in  sight. 


g6  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

Harry  was  driving  the  leading  carriage.  He  whipped  up,  and 
coach  and  carriage  tore  rapidly  down  the  wooden  pavements  of  the 
incline  of  Chapel  Street  almost  side  by  side,  to  the  imminent  peril 
of  pedestrians  and  babes  in  arms. 

"Run  'em  down!"  shouted  Caswell  angrily,  from  the  top 
of  the  sophomore  coach.  "Blank  their  impudence!  run  'em 
down !  " 

But,  unfortunately  for  the  coach,  a  heavy  furniture  van  came 
across  Chapel  at  Church  Street,  and  it  was  compelled  to  pause  in 
its  mad  career.  Harry  drove  ahead,  amid  the  shouts  and  cries  of 
a  large  body  of  his  classmates  who  were  walking  toward  the  depot 
to  take  the  Shore  Line  train  for  the  lake. 

On  the  road  out,  for  some  distance  past  East  Haven,  on  the 
hard,  shelly  roadbed,  after  they  had  crossed  the  drawbridge,  they 
could  hear  the  coaching  party  bounding  along  behind,  tooting 
their  horns  and  singing  their  Beta  Xi  and  Thcta  Psi  society  songs. 
The  freshmen  kept  the  coach,  which  had  come  up,  behind  them  by 
spreading  out  across  the  entire  road  side  bjr  side.  Caswell  and 
Holland  were  in  a  frightful  rage  over  it.  But  the  freshmen  said 
nothing  and  sawed  wood.  To  look  at  them  one  might  have 
supposed  they  were  on  their  way  to  church,  or  rather  to  a  funeral, 
they  walked  along  so  slowly,  and  looked  so  solemn. 

They  kept  everybody  else  behind,  too.  Seniors,  driving  out  their 
"best  girls";  parties  of  New  Haven  fashionables  with  coachmen 
and  footmen  in  livery.  Several  professors  were  in  the  line,  chafing 
at  the  unreasonable  dela}T  ahead.  Professor  Maynard  drove  his 
prim  family  out  in  a  one-horse  carryall,  and  wanted  to  be  prompt 
at  the  lake  in  time  to  get  a  good  place  from  which  to  see  the  races. 
But  the  freshmen  were  stubborn,  and  were  bound  not  to  let  the 
soph  coach  get  ahead  if  they  could  help  it.  Ridiculous  enough 
this  sounds  to  you,  oh,  business-bred  reader!  but  student  life  is 
just  thus  ridiculous,  and  its  free  uproanousness  and  deviltry 
make  it  half  what  it  is. 

"Drive  on  there,  you  confounded  greenhorns!  You  stupid 
freshmen!  You  impudent  rascals!"  How  the  sophs  raved  at 
them!  It  was  awful;  but  the  freshmen,  being  in  the  wrong,  kept 


THE   FALL   BOAT  RACES.  97 

silent  and  answered  not.     They  just  sang  calmly,  sneeringly,  and 
triumphantly, 

Oh,  we  meet  to-night  to  celebrate 

Omega  Lambda  Chi  ! 

Presently  they  came  to  a  bend  in  the  smooth  shell  road,  and 
beyond  it  there  was  a  long  hill.  It  was  Caswell's  opportunity. 
He  seized  the  reins  from  the  driver  and  pried  his  way  between 
Harry's  and  the  middle  carriage,  taking  the  short  cut  of  the  angle. 
Harry  had  the  better  team,  and  he  whipped  up  and  got  his  horses 
running  down  the  hill  ahead  of  the  coach.  But  Caswell  had  fire 
in  his  eye.  He  wanted  to  teach  the  freshmen  a  lesson.  He  tried 
his  best  to  run  them  down.  He  didn't  care  if  he  tipped  the  coach 
over,  not  he. 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill,  hearing  the  noise  and  seeing  amid  the 
dust  the  carriage  and  coach  corne  dashing  down  the  road  in  a 
deadly  chase,  an  elderly  lady  ordered  her  coachman  to  drive  to  one 
side  of  the  road,  draw  up,  and  let  them  pass.  By  the  elderly  lady's 
side,  in  the  swell  landau,  was  a  very  pretty  girl,  with  blue  ribbons 
on  her  hat;  on  the  box,  beside  the  coachman,  a  tall,  gawky  youth, 
who  might  have  been  a  theologue,  he  looked  so  pale  and  thin  and 
green. 

Harry  drove  his  team  straight  along  the  road,  but  the  coach, 
having  the  greater  momentum,  and  the  horses  being  better  and 
fresher,  dashed  between  the  landau  drawn  up  at  the  side  and  the 
freshmen.  Smash  !  bang  !  the  landau  was  upset  and  the  forward 
right  wheel  of  the  freshmen's  hack  came  off  and  let  them  down  all 
in  a  heap.  The  sophs  laughed  and  jeered,  and  rode  on.  Harry 
threw  the  reins  on  the  backs  of  his  horses  and  ran  to  the  landau. 
His  first  thought  was,  "  By  Jove,  I  believe  that  girl  is  killed  ! " 

Fortunately  no  one  was  hurt.  The  freshmen  helped  the  ladies 
out  and  set  the  poor,  frightened  young  theologue  on  his  feet.  For 
tunately  the  horses  were  staid  old  family  coachers  and  had  no 
idea  of  running. 

"I  demand  instantly  the  arrest  of  that  miscreant  !"  cried  the 
elderly  lady,  pointing  with  her  parasol  at  the  wicked  Caswell,  who 
was  rapidly  disappearing  down  the  road  with  his  jeering  friends 


gS  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

in  a  cloud  of  dust.  Harry  bowed  ;  he  hardly  knew  what  to  say — 
what  story  to  make  up. 

"Who  was  it,  young  man?  Tell  me  his  name  !"  shrieked  the 
indignant  old  lady  excitedly.  She  was  dressed  in  rich  black  silk, 
a  high  bonnet,  and  wore  a  brooch  of  large  and  splendid  diamonds. 
Harry  glanced  timidly  at  the  young  lady,  who  was  engaged  in 
brushing  the  dust  off  the  elder  lady  with  her  handkerchief.  Had 
he  not  seen  her  somewhere  ?  He  felt  sure  he  had  ;  she  had  a  face 
which  was  not  easily  forgotten. 

"  His  name  was  Dennis  !  He  was  a  '  towny  '  from  Bridgeport," 
lie  said.  He  wasn't  going  to  let  Caswell  in  for  a  faculty  "  scare." 
A  crowd  gathered.  Some  gentlemen — one  of  them  had  been 
pointed  out  to  him  as  a  distinguished  New  Haven  lawyer — got  out 
of  their  carriage  and  came  forward.  "  My  dear  Miss  Mulford,  I 
trust  no  accident." 

"  Judge,  it's  a  perfect  outrage  !  " 

"Ah  ?"     He  smiled  pleasantly,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"  I  suppose  you  will  call  it  merely  a  '  student's  prank.'  We  have 
been  upset,  that's  all.  My  niece,  Judge  Boompointer — Miss  Hast 
ings.  A  nice  reception  these  Yale  students  have  given  to  a  Charm- 
ington  girl.  Eh,  judge  ?" 

"A  Charmington  girl!  By  Jove!"  said  Harry  to  himself. 
"She's  the  one  I  saw  on  the  train — the  very  same  !  " 

"  I'm  awful  sorry  about  it.  I'm  afraid  the  coach  horses  were 
frightened,"  Harry  said  in  a  low  voice  to  Miss  Hastings. 

"  Oh  !  it's  nothing  at  all.  You  were  very  kind  to  stop  and 
help  us." 

What  a  sweet,  frank,  lovely,  yet  half  sarcastic  face  she  had  !  It 
was  the  same  girl.  It  was  the  one  in  the  train  ! 

"But  you  will  go  on  and  see  the  races?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  !     Why  not  ?  " 

"  And  you'll — you  will  like  to  see  us  win  ?  "     It  was  a  bold  venture. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "     She  gave  him  an  anxious  glance. 

"  Why,  Umpty-four." 

"Oh!  'Umpty-four.'  Certainly,  companions  in  misery — victims 
of  that  horrid  Mr.  Dennis  of  Bridgeport  !  " 


THE   FALL   BOAT  RACES.  99 

She  looked  at  him  knowingly  and  smiled. 

"You  know  who  it  was?"  he  asked  laughingly. 

"Oh,  everyone  but  aunt  knows  Mr.  Caswell  ! "  she  laughed. 
"  But  I  can  keep  a  secret,  too — I'm  not  going  to  '  peach.' " 

"You  know  him?" 

"I've  danced  a  german  with  him.  Don't  you  think  he's  very 
handsome  ?" 

"  Oh,  very  !  "  he  said.     "  But  he's  no  driver." 

"No — he's  no  driver !"  she  laughed.  "He  has  a  'cousin'  at 
Charmington  and  goes  up  to  see  her  quite  often." 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  to  say  :  "I  wish  I  had  a  cousin 
there,"  but  the  landau  drove  off  and  she  gave  him  a  bow  and 
charming,  quizzical  smile.  "  Good-by,  Umpty-four ! "  she 
laughed. 

How  he  hated  Caswell  !  How  pert — yet  beautiful  she  was ! 
He  gnashed  his  teeth  !  Poor  Umpty-four,  indeed  ! 

He  resolved  to  search  out  Miss  Hastings  among  the  carriages 
and  junketing  parties  at  the  lake.  Then  the  thought  struck  him  : 
"  Oh,  Lord  !  I'm  only  a  freshman  !  She  won't  look  at  me  this 
year,"  and  he  heaved  a  deep  sigh. 

The  long  train  of  well-loaded  cars  had  already  arrived  at  Lake 
Saltonstall  when  the  "Gimly  gang"  finally  got  there. 

The  whole  scene  was  most  beautiful ;  the  colors  of  the  flags  and 
bright  dresses  along  the  shore  ;  the  spectacle  of  the  boats  and  the 
cheering  parties  on  the  point.  Across  the  lake,  under  a  grove  of 
venerable  pines,  a  junketing  party  were  already  setting  out  beneath 
the  trees  an  extensive  "spread."  There  were  a  number  of  the  New 
Haven  "  snab,"  *  and  Harry  fancied  he  detected  there  amid  a  group 
the  beautiful  Miss  Hastings.  He  felt  an  additional  pang  to  see  her 
surrounded  by  a  number  of  good-looking  juniors  with  real  blond 
mustaches,  one  of  whom  he  recognized  to  be  Tom  Bixby,  who  had 
treated  him  so  cavalierly  at  the  Delta  Kap  initiation.  But  now 
Jack  and  the  crew  demanded  all  his  time  and  attention. 

The  freshman-soph-junior  six-oared  race  was  third  on  the   pro- 

*  A  college  term  for  fashionable  ladies  and  pretty  girls. 


100  COLLEGE  DA  Y$. 

gramme,  and  when  he  went  into  the  boathouse  the  crew  were 
gathered  about  Captain  Bob  Clark,  of  the  'varsity  crew,  who  was 
stripped  for  the  single  sculls.  Bob  was  perfectly  free  from  bias 
and  unfairness  in  boating  matters.  He  counseled  the  freshmen 
with  just  as  much  squareness  and  honesty  as  if  it  were  his  own  crew. 

"  We're  going  to  give  you  two  minutes'  handicap,"  he  said,  "  and 
you  may  win  if  you  keep  cool  and  pull  in  the  boat,  and  keep  your 
eyes  on  the  man's  back  in  front  of  you.  Don't  listen  to  the  shouts 
on  the  point.  There  are  150  sophs  there,  and  they'll  try  and  make 
you  catch  crabs  as  you  go  by.  You'd  better  put  wax  in  your  ears, 
as  Ulysses  did  going  past  the  sirens.  You've  got  some  good  men 
in  your  crew.  I've  got  my  eye  on  you." 

Here  Bullock  smiled,  self-satisfiedly. 

"  You've  got  an  old  boat,  but  she's  fast  if  you  ever  get  her  going. 
Stick  to  your  stroke.  Go  easy.  Don't  get  rattled  and  dig  your 
oars  in  too  deep.  Don't  lose  form,  and,  whatever  else  you  do, 
don't  give  up  till  you  cross  the  line  !  " 

No  one  rowed  in  the  "buff" — the  weather  was  a  little  too  cool 
for  this — and  the  white  gauze  shirts  of  the  freshmen  crew  had 
huge  "  Umpty-fours  "  on  their  breasts  in  blue.  Jack  Rives  was 
hard  and  wiry  as  hard  training  could  make  him.  He  looked  rather 
unusually  pale,  however,  and  it  made  Harry  nervous  to  look  at  him. 
The  soph  crew  were  out  on  the  float  watching  the  start  of  the  pair- 
oared  race.  Presently  everyone  ran  out  but  Jack. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Jack  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  Nothing." 

"  Yes,  there  is.     What  is  it  ?  " 

"Oh,  nothing." 

"  You're  not  feeling  up  to  snuff." 

"  Well,  look  at  my  hand." 

A  painful  felon  had  started  in  at  the  root  of  his  thumb  on  his 
left  hand. 

"  By  Jove  !  you've  kept  it  a  secret." 

Jack  nodded. 

"  But  yon  can't  row." 

"  Can't  I  ?  " 


THE   FALL   BOAT  RACES.  101 

"  The  pain  will  kill  you." 

"  Well,  let  it  !  "     And  lie  laughed  dismally. 

"  I  thought  you  were  not  sleeping  last  night,  and  it  was  this 
thing  that  kept  you  awake  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  it  is  simple  cruelty  to  let  you  row."  Harry  started  to  go 
out  of  the  door  to  confer  with  Captain  Grannis. 

"  Stop,  Harry,  I'm  going  to  row.  I  don't  care  if  it  kills  me. 
But  the  fact  is  it  doesn't  hurt  very  much,  and  in  the  excitement  of 
the  race  I  shan't  think  anything  about  it.  Please  don't  say  any 
thing.  Coxswain  Gifford  says  we're  going  to  win  on  our  handicap, 
and  if  we  do — oh,  glory  !  " 

"  Jack,  I'm  afraid  you  will  have  a  frightful  time  of  it." 

"1  don't  mind." 

"Jack "  Harry  hesitated.  "I'm  awful  sorry  for  you, 

but- 

«  Well  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  right — it  isn't  fair  to  the  crew — to  the  class." 

Jack  Rives'  eyes  flashed  indignantly. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  he  cried,  walking  up  to  Harry,  "  do  you  think  I'm 
not  going  to  pull  my  heart  out?" 

Their  eyes  met.     Jack's  were  blazing  with  wrath. 

"  That's  just  it,  old  man  ;  you  will  be  crazy  with  pain,  and  you 
will  not  pull  right.  You're  sick  now  with  this  thing.  You  see 
my  point  ;  it  isn't  a  square  deal." 

"  But  I  will  pull  the  harder — the  stronger.     Indeed  I  will." 

Harry  walked  slowly  out  of  the  boatliouse,  and  Jack  whistled 
softly,  "  And  the  band  played  Annie  Laurie."  It  was  the  first 
time  that  the  two  chums  had  ever  really  had  a  disagreement. 
Both  said  less  than  they  felt.  A  little  would  have  impelled  Harry 
to  utter  words  he  would  never  have  forgiven  himself  for  after 
ward.  He  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  Should  he  confer  with  Clark 
and  Grannis?  He  went  out  and  leaned  against  the  boatliouse 
a  long  time  in  silence.  lie  wisely  ended  by  trusting  Jack,  and 
said  nothing. 

The  first  race  for  pair  oars  was  a  one-sided  affair,  easily  won  by 


102  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

two  seniors,  who,  after  four  years  of  rowing,  were  past  masters  of 
their  craft.  Then  followed  a  close  shell  race  between  the"  Sheffs" 
and  the  Law  School.  Then  Bob  Clark  won  his  single-scull  race 
hands  down,  beating  the  great  McKinley  of  the  junior  class  with 
ease.  Then  came  the  great  race  of  the  day.  Harry  stood  by  his 
"  chum,"  said  nothing,  and  rubbed  his  back  with  whisky,  very  silent 
and  depressed.  Jack's  face  was  pale  and  determined.  He  chattered 
a  good  deal  and  cracked  jokes,  every  now  and  then  a  twinge  of 
pain  shooting  over  his  face.  The  sophs  got  into  their  light  cedar 
barge  and  pulled  prettily  under  Dobson's  stroke  and  Farley  at  bow, 
with  Jones,  a  senior,  as  coxswain.  It  was  a  splendid  crew,  very 
beefy  and  very  confident.  The  fact  was  they  were  too  confident, 
and  were  not  trained  down  fine  enough  for  a  hot  two-mile  sprint 
ing  race.  The  juniors  got  out  next  in  their  light  barge  ;  they 
had  a  light  crew  with  an  ex-'varsity  oar  at  stroke.  They  expected 
to  "  lay  out "  the  freshmen,  but  practically  conceded  the  race  to 
the  sophs. 

The  three  crews  lined  up  in  the  placid  waters  of  the  lake  for 
a  moment ;  then  the  referee  shouted  : 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

Silence. 

"  Go  ! " 

Of  course  the  sophs  jumped  ahead  in  the  first  ten  strokes.  But 
what  was  the  matter  with  the  freshmen  ?  They  tore  up  the  water 
like  a  steamboat,  but  the  old  Black  Maria  acted  as  if  she  was 
anchored.  The  juniors  lapped  the  sophs  up  to  past  the  point  and 
then  fell  away.  But  see  !  The  freshman  boat  has  got  going  at 
last !  Now  watch  her !  Gifford's  face  is  stern  and  set.  He 
knows  what  he's  about.  He  keeps  in  deep  water  and  she  gains  on 
the  other  boats  a  little  !  Thornton  is  setting  a  beautiful  regular 
clocklike  stroke,  and  Bob  Clark's  keen,  admiring  eye  is  on  him 
from  a  wherry.  They  near  the  point.  Then  the  great  Jim  Dan- 
forth  turns  loose  his  pack  of  deep-baying  freshman  hounds. 

"  Umpty-four,  Umpty-four  !  Whooper-up  !  Whooper-up  ! 
Rah-rah-rah  !  Rah-rah-rah  !  "  There  is  a  'fearful  din,  and  the 
dear  old  tub  responds. 


THE   FALL    BOAT  RACES.  103 

"  Gee  whizz  !  boys,  how  she  goes  !  "  cries  Jim  Danforth,  knee 
deep  in  the  lake.  "She'll  catch  'em  yet.  You  see!  Now,  with 
a  will!  Whooper-up,  Umpty-four  !  Rah-rah -rah  !"  etc.,  ad 
nauseam. 

And  the  noise  is  so  great  one  almost  forgets  the  race.  Once 
going,  and  once  feeling  she  was  in  for  a  good  race  again,  and 
seeming  to  hear  the  freshmen  cries,  the  old  barge  responded  to  the 
oars  like  a  thing  of  life.  She  never  stopped.  Her  weight  shoved 
her  along.  She  neared  the  juniors  ;  crept  along,  oar  by  oar  ; 
passed  them  ;  met  the  sophs  at  the  stake  ;  they  were  just  turning, 
and  here  De  Koven  "  let  his  jaw  wag."  His  calm,  easy,  rattling 
tongue  broke  them  all  up.  Where  he  got  the  wind  no  one  ever 
knew.  It  was  his  pure,  untrammeled  "  cheek,"  which  was  supreme 
in  death  (he  fell  over  in  a  dead  faint  at  the  end  of  the  race). 

"  Why — why,  what's  the  matter  in  your  boat,  Dobson  ?  "  he 
asked.  "Are  you  well?  Here  we  are  almost  even  witli  you  in 
this  old  tub.  Are  you  well,  Dobson  ?  Sa}',  Farley,  get  out  of  the 
boat  :  you're  not  pulling  your  weight." 

As  they  turned  the  stake  Bullock  cried  out :  "  Oh,  I  can't  row 
any  farther — I'm  done  up  !  " 

Gifford  swore.     "  What  ?  "  he  cried.     "  You  loafer  !  " 

"  I'm  done  up — my  heart  troubles  me  !  "  cried  Bullock  peevishly. 

"  Well,  keep  up  the  motion  at  all  events,"  shouted  Gifford,  "  and 
don't  put  the  crew  out."  Being  on  the  port  side,  he  was  not 
obliged  to  do  any  pulling  at  all  going  round  the  stake,  but  hold  his 
oar  deep  in  the  water. 

"Throw  some  water  over  him,  Rives." 

Gifford  had  sent  the  boys  along  at  a  terrific  pace,  what  with  his 
"  Now,  then,  let  her  go  ;  you're  gaining  fast.  You're  sure  of  the 
race,"  etc. 

He  knew  well  enough  the  duties  of  a  coxswain  are  always  to 
encourage,  never  to  tell  a  crew  they  are  falling  back. 

On  the  home  stretch  they  went  slower,  and  barely  kept  ahead  of 
the  juniors.  Gifford  kept  them  at  it,  however,  and  the  shouts  on 
the  bank  did  the  rest.  They  crossed  the  line  ahead  of  the  juniors 
by  six  feet,  winning  the  race  from  the  sophs  on  their  handicap 


IO4 


COLLEGE   DA  VS. 


allowance  by  fully  forty  seconds.  De  Koveu  fainted,  and  Jack  sat 
back  very  gritty  and  let  his  hand  drop  in  the  water.  The  crew 
were  silent.  They  felt  that  Bullock  was  a  contemptible  cur.  He 
came  in  fresh  as  a  bird.  When  they  rowed  up  to  the  float  Clark 
was  there  and  half  the  freshman  class. 

"  Rives,"  said  the  great  captain,  "  you  have  one  thing  to  learn. 
Never  think  you've  got  to  pull  the  entire  boat  alone." 

"  By  George  !  "  laughed  Gifford,  highly  pleased,  "  They  all— 
all  but — they  all  pulled  like  heroes." 


THE  RIDE  HOME  AFTER  THE  RACES. 


"  Get  me  some  brandy,  quick  !  "  cried  Jack,  as  they  landed. 
"I'm  dizzy,  but  don't  mention  it." 

Harry  had  his  flask  ready,  and  Jack  took  a  long  swig. 

He  was  himself  again.  De  Koven  came  to  in  a  minute,  and  was 
soon  all  right.  In  ten  minutes  the  freshmen  crew  were  all  swim 
ming  about  like  corks  in  the  water,  conscious  of  all  the  glory  of  the 
afternoon.  They  were  the  heroes  of  the  day,  and  the  ride  home 


THE   FALL    BOAT  RACES.  105 

after  the  races,  in  the  glowing  mellow  October  light,  was  one  long 
succession    of    shouts    of    triumph.       How  the    girls    smiled    and 
applauded  as  they  rowed  past!      As  for  Stamp — he  barked  himself 
hoarse.      His    cry    sounded  very    much    like    "  Ilumphty-four  — 
Humphty-four — Whooper  umph    for  Ilumphty-four  !  " 

As  they  were  coming  home  from  the  post  office  the  next  day, 
Jack's  hand  still  being  carried  in  a  bandage,  they  happened  to 
meet  Captain  Clark,  who  stopped  and  talked  with  them. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  rowed  with  a  felon  on  your  hand, 
Rives?" 

Jack  blushed  a  little. 

"Why,  man,  you  pulled  harder  than  any  man  in  your  boat." 

"So  he  did!  "  said  Harry  proudly. 

The  'varsity  captain  whistled  a  lively  air  and  turned  on  his  heel. 
Then  he  called  out:  "See  that  you  don't  take  cold  in  it,  Rives. 
And  by  the  way,  come  to  my  room  in  South  Middle  to-morrow 
night,  will  }'ou?  We  are  going  to  have  a  boating  meeting." 

"There,"  said  Jack.  "If  I  hadn't  rowed,  Harry,  and  nearly 
killed  myself,  I  wouldn't  have  got  that  invitation." 

He  felt  he  was  on  the  'varsity  crew  from  that  hour,  just  as  Harry 
believed  he  had  a  sure  thing  on  the  nine. 

The  first  term  of  freshman  year  drew  on  to  its  end.  Everyone 
in  college  but  freshmen  was  busy  getting  ready  for  the  Thanks 
giving  jubilee,  which,  though  now  obsolete,  was  at  that  time  the 
successor  of  the  Wooden  Spoon  Exhibition  and  a  grand  annual 
rumpus,  tolerated  by  the  faculty,  at  which  all  the  jokes,  the  victo 
ries,  defeats,  and  events  of  the  college  year  were  reviewed  and  earica- 
atured  on  the  stage.  It  began  with  minstrels  and  ended  with  a  play. 

But  the  poor  freshmen  had  little  heart,  most  of  them,  during 
those  last  weeks  of  their  first  term,  for  jubilees.  They  were  glad 
enough  for  anything  to  enliven  them.  Jim  Danforth  went  about 
with  a  long  face,  predicting  that  out  of  their  class  of  15G  only  a 
hundred  would  be  left  after  the  Christmas  holidays.  A  freshman 
tutor  by  the  name  of  Dilworthy  had  taken  the  entire  charge  of 
Danforth.  Dilworthy  was  tutoring  and  at  the  same  time  attend 
ing  the  theological  course  with  a  view  of  ultimately  becom- 


io6 


COLLEGE  DAYS. 


ing  a  clergyman  in  the  up-country  towns  of  Connecticut.  He 
had  one  weakness — baseball.  He  couldn't  play  himself,  but 
he  loved  to  see  the  nine  play;  and  he  was  tired  of  seeing 

them  beaten  by  Har 
vard. 

He  watched  Dan- 
forth,  and  made  up 
his  mind  that  he  was 
one  of  the  greatest 
baseball  players  that 
ever  came  to  college. 
That  settled  it.  He 
was  his  division  offi 
cer,  and  although  Jim 
flunked  his  Horace 
"dead,"  he  kept  get 
ting  the  most  amaz 
ing  stand  in  Latin — 
a  stand  which  brought 

o 

him  up  in  Greek  and 
mathematics  and  car 
ried  him  through  the 
term.  In  fact  Tutor 
Dilworthy  had  a  soft 
heart  for  all  disheart 
ened  freshmen.  He 
was  a  queer,  solitary, 
lonesome  sort  of  man, 
and  yet  he  was  prob 
ably  the  most  popular 
tutor  in  college,  where 
tutors  are  usually  so 
unpopular. 

Twice  a  week  he  gave  up  an  evening  to  about  twenty  low-stand 

freshmen.      He  called  it  his   "fifth  division."      Those  low-stand 

They   studied   very  hard,  too.     But,  as   Tutor  Dilworthy 


TUTOR    DILWORTHY. 


THE   FALL   BOAT  RACES.  107 

said,  they  were  mostly  "misfits."  They  had  never  begun  right. 
The  miserable  "preparatory"  system  which  they  underwent — 
going  from  one  boarding  school  to  another,  or  getting  private 
teaching  from  unworthy  instructors,  never  getting  the  right 
kind  of  drill — brought  them  into  college  loathing  all  kinds  of 
study. 

It  was  less  than  a  month  now  to  the  Christinas  holidays,  and 
the  following  night  the  Thanksgiving  jubilee  was  to  come  off  at 
Alumni  Hall.  There  was  but  one  recitation  in  review  the  next 
day,  and  it  was  a  sort  of  "let  up"  night.  Several  freshmen 
dropped  in,  and  they  tossed  up  to  see  who  should  be  sent  out  to 
work  the  "growler."  The  lot  fell  to  Xevers,  a  jolly,  good-natured 
little  chap  as  ever  drew  breath.  So  good-natured  that  he  was 
generally  imposed  upon. 

"By  Jove!"  he  said,  "I  hate  to  go  out  this  cold,  frosty  night 
and  leave  that  fire.  Gad,  fellows,  what  afire  to  roast  a  turkey!" 

"  If  we  only  had  the  turkey ! "  laughed  Thornton  from  the 
lounge,  where  Stamp  was  lying,  one  eye  open,  his  head  on  his 
master's  lap. 

"Turkey!  I  know  a  bank  whereon  wild  turkeys  grow — a  turkey 
farm  out  by  West  Rock,"  said  Jack  quickly.  "We  used  to  run 
past  it  when  Grannis  took  us  on  our  four-mile  trips  in  training. 
Gobble-obble-obble!  They  must  be  fat  and  tender  now.  Gobble- 
obble-obble!  "  He  made  their  very  mouths  water. 

"Ahem!  Could  you,  me  boy,  could  you  lead  me  thither?" 
asked  Coles  facetiously. 

"The  owner  is  a  crusty  old  farmer,  and  the  farmer's  big  dog  la}r 
on  the  barn  floor,  and  Bingo  was  his  name,  sir!"  chimed  in  half  a 
dozen  others,  adrnonishingly. 

"Oh,  Stamp  here  can  chew  the  ears  oil  any  Bingo!"  laughed 
Thornton. 

It  took  only  a  little  more  talk  to  get  Jack  to  say: 

"If  I  could  get  three  fellows — Bill  Thornton,  you,  Harry — I 
want  you,  Coles — I'll  get  you  two  fat  spring  turkeys.  Boys,  we'll 
have  a  feast.  Time!  It's  now  nine  o'clock.  It's  a  two-mile  run 
only  to  the  turkey  farm.  Oh,  if  the  old  rascal  makes  any  trouble, 


:0g  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

we'll  buy  them !  But,  meanwhile,  how  would  a  lot  of  roast  oysters 
go  with  turkey? 

"You  get  the  turkey,  we'll  provide  the  oysters!"  volunteered 
Danforth.  "By  Gad!  I'll  stop  in  and  invite  old  Dilworthy. 
He'll  come.  I'll  make  him  bring  his  flute  and  he  never  need  know 
where  the  turkeys  came  from." 

"  By  all  means  !  "  laughed  Jack,  taking  off  his  coat  and  vest  for 
the  long  run  oat  and  back,  and  looking  for  his  baseball  shoes. 

Harry  went  down  to  pacify  Mrs.  Gimly. 

"  Mrs.  Gimly,"  he  said,  bowing  to  Samanthy,  who  was  washing 
dishes  at  a  sink  in  the  next  room  ;  "  Mrs.  Gimly,  the  fellows  wanted 
me  to  give  you  this  to  buy  yourself  and  Miss  Samanthy  a  turkey 
Thanksgiving,  and  perhaps  you  won't  mind  our  having  a  little 
supper  to-night  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.     It's  Thanksgiving  time,  an'  of  course — 

"We  expect  Tutor  Dilworthy,  and  we  may  make  a  little  noise, 
later  on,  ma'am." 

"Oh,  if  the  faculty  is  present,  what  is  it  to  Samanthy  an'  me? 
We  are  not  here  to  find  fault  with  them.  An'  if  any  tutor  is  with 
ye,  I  resign  me  charge." 

Harry  warned  Mrs.  Gimly  that  there  might  be  a  little  extra 
ground  and  lofty  tumbling  too,  and  went  back  to  the  room  and 
put  on  his  running  shoes,  laughing  heartily. 

It  was  wicked,  it  was  wrong — but  it  was  Thanksgiving  time. 
The  butchers'  shops  had  long  since  shut  up,  and  turkeys  could  not 
be  bought  then.  Turkeys  must  be  had  to  satisfy  their  sharp  fresh 
man  appetites — and  might  not  turkey  be  "  crooked"  ? 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE     TURKEY      CHASE. 


H 


'ARRY,  Jack.  Thornton,  and 
Coles,  four  of  the  "cheekiest" 
toughest,  smartest  freshmen  in  Umpty- 
four,  as  Caswell  said — ;Caswell  was  be 
ginning  to  say  very  kind  things  of  the 
freshmen — there  were  various  vague  ru 
mors  that  the  chief  "sport"  of  Umpty- 
three  was  coming  down  in  course  of 
time — to  mingle  with  them  in  the  dis 
agreeable  curriculum  of  freshmen  year) 
— out  they  trotted  from  Mrs.  Girnly's 
freshman  "Home"  noiselessly,  with 
that  easy,  loping  gait  that  meant  a 

long  run.  Along  York  Street  to  Elm,  out  Elm  a  long  steady  jog. 
The  night  was  keen  and  cold  and  the  moon  seemed  brighter  than 
usual,  making  long  clearly  defined  shadows  beneath  the  leafless 
elms. 

Thornton,  tall  and  strong  as  an  Indian,  led  them  and  they  soon 
fell  into  line.  People  stopped  and  watched  them.  "Some  crew  a- 
tniining,"  they  said.  Harry  ran  next.  He  had  an  easy  short  stride 
which  lie  could  keep  up,  with  short  periods  for  meals,  all  day. 
Steady  daily  work  in  the  old  gym  was  doing  our  hero  an  immense 
amount  of  good.  He  had  not  an  ounce  too  much.  His  skin  was 
white  and  healthful,  his  eves  dancing  with  keen  zest  and  excite 
ment.  Coles  followed — puffing  a  little— he  was  not  in  as  good 
condition  as  the  others,  but  he  had  the  heart  and  nerve  of  a  veteran. 
He  ran  more  carefully  than  the  rest,  saving  himself  as  much  as  he 
could.  Jack  loafed  along  in  the  rear,  enjoying  the  cool  air  and 


no  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

the  charm  of  the  escapade.  How  his  heart  beat!  He  knew  that 
with  Thornton  along  it  meant,  "Turkey  or  death!"  Trot,  trot,  trot 

on  they  go — I  won't  say  where  exactly  (oh,  present  year  freshmen, 

you  may  discover  their  route  for  yourselves!)  past  the  little 
wooden  houses  of  the  outskirts  of  New  Haven;  past  Hamden, 
a  town  of  narrow  size  and  at  the  time  of  most  unsavory  reputation 
— up  a  long,  devious  hill,  where  they  pause  and  take  breath;  down 
again  through  a  patch  of  woods,  where  the  night  owl  screams  to 
them  as  they  silently  run  along  the  soft,  sandy  roadway. 

"  You're  safe  !  "  shouts  exuberant  Jack  to  them  over  his  shoulder; 
"  we're  not  out  after  owls  !  " 

"  Well — quit  your  howls  then,  and  be  quiet,"  cried  Thornton, 
laughing,  "  for  we'll  be  there  in  another  mile  !  " 

Trot — trot — again  in  silence,  and  Thornton  stops  a  hundred  yards 
this  side  of  a  farmhouse,  near  which  stood  a  large  barn,  a  long 
low  whitewashed  shed,  and  a  number  of  outbuildings.  The  lights 
were  not  yet  out  in  the  farmhouse,  and  farmer  Sniggins  and  his 
three  tall  sons  were  evidently  sitting  up  late  figuring  out  their 
profits  for  the  approaching  turkey  season. 

"  Now,"  said  Thornton,  "  there  was  a  steal  here  last  week  " — and 
he  looked  at  Coles,  who  leaned  up  against  the  fence  to  rest. 
"  Yes — a  steal — I  don't  mean  to  do  that  again,  Coles." 

Coles  coughed  dismally. 

"  I'm  going  to  appropriate  'em  this  time." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Jack,  "  they  are  contraband  of  war " 

"  Well,  I  mean  to  leave  a  five-dollar  bill  pinned  to  the  turkey- 
roost,  for  the  first  Sniggins  who  sees  it.  They  can't  lose  anything 
then — and " 

"  Why  not  try  to  buy  them  first,  then  ?  " 

"Because  I  heard  old  Sniggins  say  himself  that  if  he  caught 
another  o'  them  'tarnation  pesky  students  on  his  farm,  he'd  give 
him  'ticlar  h—  1,  and  fill  his  body  with  rock  salt  !'" 

"  Lord  !  do  you  suppose  I'm  going  to  run  four  miles  for  the  fun 
of  buying  a  turkey  ?  "  asked  Jack.  "  Not  much  !  " 

"Well— I  shall  waste  this  fiver  on  them  anyhow,"  and  Thornton 
took  out  a  greenback  and  rolled  it  up,  as  if  ready  for  instant  use. 


THE    TURKEY   CHASE.  ill 

"  Now,  boys  ;  Harry  and  I'll  do  the  appropriation  act.  Coles,  you 
and  Jack  mount  guard.  They've  got  a  couple  of  dogs,  we'd  all 
better  get  sticks.  Bat  the  dogs  over  the  head,  if  necessary.  I  don't 
want  a  dose  of  rock  salt — but  I  don't  believe  they'll  fire.  If  they  do 
— rush  in  and  grab  the  gun,  boys,  and  then  run  in  different  direc 
tions — I'll  manage  one  turkey  sure — the  farmers  won't  show  fight ; 
if  they  do,  mind — rush  in  and  upset  them.  It  may  be  a  sharp  run; 
and  we'll  wait  a  few  minutes,  and  get  rested." 

Just  then  they  heard  a  loud  "Bow — wow — wow — wow  !  "  on  the 
still  night  air. 

"  That's  the  Newfoundland,  he  won't  bite,"  whispered  Thornton, 
as  they  crept  up  near  the  house  in  the  shadow  of  a  picket  fence. 
"  He's  only  fooling  !  " 

Then  another  dog  began  to  bark. 

"  I  guess  they  scent  us,"  said  Jack.  "  You  will  insist,  Harry,  on 
using  such  rank  cologne  !  Tell  me,  will  a  dog's  teeth  go  through 
corduroys  ?  " 

"  You're  scared  already,  Jack  !  I  never  heard  anyone  pant  so  in 
all  my  life  !  " 

"  \Vait  here,"  whispered  Thornton  cautiously.  "  I'll  go  in  the 
yard  and  reconnoiter.  Don't  stir  or  make  a  sound,  unless  I  whistle." 

They  saw  Thornton  advance  across  the  moonlit  yard  and  peer 
into  the  window.  Then  a  black  object  came  rushing  around  a 
corner,  making  a  dead  set  for  him,  and  on  his  way  upsetting  half 
a  dozen  milk  pans  which  stood  leaning  against  one  another  on  the 
piazza.  A  terrible  din  followed.  Thornton  beat  the  dog  off,  and 
skipped  around  the  corner  just  as  the  entire  Sniggins  family  came 
out  on  the  porch. 

"  Why,  look  at  them  pans  !  "  cried  a  terrified  female  voice. 

"  It's  thet  new  dog,  mother  ;  he's  upsettin'  everythin'  lately  !  " 

"  Father — he's  gone  to  git  the  gun  !  "  said  one  of  the  Sniggins 
sons,  a  stalwart  looking  youth,  as  they  could  see,  in  the  light  of  the 
doorway. 

"  Father,  you  put  up  that  gun  !  "  cried  the  female  voice.  "  I  aint 
goin'  to  hev  no  gun  firin' — it's  drefful  dangerous,  an'  might  go  off 
an'  kill  us  ail." 


1 1 2  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

An  old  man  now  appeared,  holding  a  gun  in  his  hand.  "  Ef  it's 
anybody  after  them  turkey  critters,"  he  said  sadly,  "  I'm  'feared 
they'll  git  rocksalted — 'cause  this  gun's  loaded." 

In  the  meantime  it  had  occurred  to  Thornton,  who  had  beaten  off 
the  dog,  that  by  making  a  circuit  of  the  house  he  could  get  into 
the  turkey-roost  under  the  shed  before  any  active  preparations 
were  made  to  defend  the  objective  point  of  their  night  visit.  The 
same  idea  had  occurred  to  Harry  that  no  time  should  now  be  lost, 
as  it  was  more  than  likely  that  the  sons  would,  after  their  scare,  go 
out  and  spend  the  night  in  the  barn,  in  defense  of  turkey.  He 
arranged  with  Coles  and  Jack  to  make  a  "  diversion,"  as  he  called 
it,  drawing  off  the  attention  of  the  Snigginses  toward  the  road, 
while  he  skirted  around  and  met  Thornton  at  the  further  end  of 
the  shed  where  "  King  Gobble  "  was  reposing. 

"  Oh,  you  want  us  to  draw  the  rock  salt  our  way,  do  you  ?  "  said 
Jack.  "  That's  real  kind  of  you  !  " 

"  Well,  someone's  got  to  suffer  !  "  laughed  Harry,  "  and  we  must 
have  turkey,  you  know  !  " 

Harry  climbed  the  fence  and  ran  like  a  deer  in  the  shadows 
of  some  apple  trees  toward  a  carriage  shed,  into  which,  presently, 
they  saw  him  disappear.  The  old  man  with  the  gun  came  out  into 
the  yard,  apparently  looking  for  game.  Jack  and  Coles  crouched 
close  under  some  bushes  which  grew  in  a  clump  by  the  fence. 
"Sickem,  Carlo— sickem  !"  he  called  to  a  clog.  "Guess  tlmint 
no  one  around  to-night  !  "  yawned  the  old  man,  while  his  sons 
took  seats  on  the  steps  as  if  waiting  to  see  what  "father  was  going 
to  do  about  it." 

Just  then  there  rang  out  the  most  awful  screeching  and  gobble- 
obble-obbling,  on  the  night  air  ;  evidently  King  Gobble  WPS 
making  a  desperate  fight  for  life.  The  sons  started  for  the  barn, 
the  old  man  after  them  with  the  gun. 

:<  Now's  the  time  for  the  <  diversion,'  "  cried  Jack,  rolling  up  his 
coat  in  imitation  of  a  fat  old  cock,  and  imitating  the  turkey 
"gobble-obble-obble  "  capitally  he  started  down  the  road  in  the  same 
direction  in  which  they  had  come.  Coles  chased  after  him,  and  the 
old  farmer  turned  and  let  fly  both  barrels  of  rock  salt  in  their  direc- 


THE    TURKEY   CHASE.  113 

tion.  The  sons  came  Hying-  out  at  top  speed,  and  Jack  shouted  to 
Coles  to  jump  a  lo\v  fence  and  hide  at  the  first  opportunity,  as  his 
blood  was  up  and  he  intended  to  lead  them  a  long  chase  around 
home  to  New  Haven.  It  was  well  Coles  followed  this  advice,  as 
lie  felt  that  the  hardy  farmer's  lads  were  gaining  on  him,  every 
stride.  Jack  fresh  from  training  was  never  in  better  trim  for  a  long- 
run,  and  lie  knew  the  roads  which  led  back  to  town,  which  Coles 
did  not.  At  a  convenient  ditch  Coles  ran  wide,  took  a  leap,  and 
tumbled  over  a  stone  wall,  down  a  bank  into  a  pond  of  muddy 
water  :  there  he  crawled  out  on  the  bank,  and  waited  as  the  farmer's 
lads  ran  by. 

"Lord!"  he  cried,  spitting  the  muddy  water  out  of  his  mouth, 
"  Wish  we'd  stood  our  ground  and  fought  'em."  Coles,  as  a  fresh 
man,  had  more  strength  of  arm  than  limb. 

Somewhat  less  than  an  hour  later,  two  turkey-laden  fresh 
men  emerged  upon  the  road  which  led  to  West  Rock,  and 
so  ou  into  New  Haven.  Two  fat  king  gobblers  accompanied 
them. 

"  I  say,  Thorny,  let's  pick  the  confounded  buzzard,"  said  Harry. 
He  was  covered  with  mud  and  mire,  and  his  face  was  flushed  from 
the  cold  air  and  violent  exercise.  On  his  back  he  carried  a  fat 
bird  weighing  about  fifteen  pounds. 

Thornton — Harry  often  remembered  him  afterward  as  he  looked 
that  night,  so  handsome  in  his  bare  head,  his  hair  long  and  wavy, 
his  face  so  boyishly  brave  and  honest — Thornton  said  :  "  I'm  glad 
I  left  that  fiver.  They'll  get  it  in  the  morning — and  I  guess  that's 

*;  O  O  O 

right  for  my  bird  and  part  of  yours  !  " 

It  was  pure  freshman  honesty,  reader — they  must  steal  the 
turkeys,  but  yet  the  farmer  should  not  suffer  ! 

Getting  near  New  Haven  the  boys  took  off  their  coats,  and  the 
King  and  his  son  the  Prince  were  properly  clad  as  they  walked 
through  Elm  and  York  streets,  even  if  their  captors  were  not  !  It 
Avas  the  work  of  a  few  moments,  with  kindly  Samanfha  holding  the 
lamp  (it  was  now  after  ten  o'clock),  to  scatter  the  black  feathers  all 
over  Mrs.  Gimly's  yard  ;  and  by  the  time  the  turkeys  looked  like 
fat  babies  ready  for  a  bath,  Coles  showed  up  ;  his  face  scratched, 


II4  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

his  clothes  torn,  and  claiming  lie  would  not  be  obliged  to  use  salt 
for  a  decade.  Where  was  Jack  ? 

"  Why,"  said  he, "  I  saw  the  last  of  the  dear  old  boy  as  he  started 
due  west  with  two  of  those  clodhoppers  chasing  after  him  down 
the  road.  He  sang  out  to  me  to  dive  over  a  fence  into  a  duck 
pond— and  I  did  !  Lord  !  how  much  of  that  salt  mud  did  I  swal 
low  !  You  see,  Chestnuts,  we  made  a  '  divarsion  '  and  you  got  the 
birds  off  safe,  I  see.  Thunder  !  what  big  fellows  !  " 

"  And  paid  for  too  !  "  put  in  Samantha,  holding  the  lamp. 

"  Cert !  "  said  Harry.. 

"  I  hope  Jack  gave  them  a  run  for  it — ice  had  to  gallop,"  said 
Thornton  as  he  got  rid  of  the  last  feather,  "  and  it  was  no  easy  job 
to  choke  the  birds — eh,  Harry  ?  How  they  did  protest  and  object 
and  ask  for  delay — they  didn't  die  like  true  gentlemen  at  all  ! " 

"The  old  man  loaded  and  fired  point-blank  at  us  before  we  got 
into  the  woods,"  said  Harry.  "  But  I  wisli  Jack  was  here — he  may 
be  in  New  York  State  by  morning  if  he  isn't  careful." 

"  He  was  running  away  from  them  easily  enough  when  I  last 
saw  him,"  said  Coles.  "  And  he  knew  the  roads,  so  I'm  not  exactly 
worrying  about  him — still — 

"  Who's  here,  upstairs  ?  "  they  asked  of  Samanthy. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dilworthy  has  came,"  she  said,  "and  there's  lot's 
besides— and  they  do  say  that  as  for  Mr.  Caswell  an'  Mr.  Holland, 
that  they  are  dropped  ;  yes,  sir  !  " 

"  Dropped — into  Umpty-four  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  that's  great  !  where  did  you  get  that  news,  Samanthy  ?  " 

"  Why,  ma  she  saw  Professor  Shepard  in  the  street  and  he 
informed  her — fer  as  she  said  as  softmores  they  is  unbearable, 
but  as  fresh  gentlemen  they  aint  so  bad." 

"  Dropped— Cassy  and  Billy  Holland  !  The  faculty  is  getting 
awfully  cheeky  ! "  exclaimed  Harry.  "  They're  the  big  guns  of 
Umpty-three." 

"  But  they  won't  be  in  our  class,"  said  Thornton.  "  You'll  see, 
they'll  stay  out.  It's  such  an  awful  disgrace.  I'd  sooner  be  shot 
than  drop  out  of  Umpty-four.  Think  of  dropping  into  space— for 


THE    TURKEY   CHASE.  115 

there  isn't  any  TJmpty-five,  you  know.  Saving  your  presence, 
Samanthy — it  isn't  born,  you  know." 

Samantha  blushed. 

"  No,  sir — it  reely  aint !  "  said  Saraantha.     "  Hee  hee  !  " 

The  turkeys  being  now  comfortably  picked,  and  interestingly 
disemboweled,  were  ready,  after  a  soaking  in  ice  water,  for  their 
proper  stuffing  with  sage  dressing,  preparatory  to  their  roast  before 
the  fire  upstairs  when  all  was  ready.  The  boys  marched  up 
bearing  the  turkeys  aloft  on  platters  and  burst  into  a  room  full  of 
freshmen — Tutor  Dilworthy  in  their  midst,  and  an  atmosphere 
so  dense  with  corncob  pipe  smoke  that  you  could  cut  it  with  a 
hammer  and  chisel.  Tutor  Dilworthy  had  brought  his  flute, 
but  he  wasn't  playing  on  it  ;  no,  that  was  reserved  for  after 
supper,  when  Jim  Danforth  intended  to  have  "  the  greatest 
exhibition  of  musical  and  extemporaneous  talent  ever  known  in 
Novo  Portu"  as  he  put  it,  "  on  any  single  occasion." 

The  turkeys  were  greeted  with  a  great  shout,  and  a  "  three 
times  three."  Danforth  had  got  a  big  bushel  basket  of  the  finest 
oysters  and  no  one  but  himself  knew  how  many  dozen  of  beer. 
"  But — where — is — dear  old — Jack  ?  "  cried  Danforth,  noticing 
that  only  three  of  the  scouters  had  returned. 

"  On  his  way  due  west,  will  change  keers  at  Albany,"  said 
Coles,  laughing. 

"  Where  did  you  see  him  last  ?  "  asked  Jim  anxiously. 

"  Why,  as  me  an'  de  biler  was  a  gwine  up,  I  see  him  an'  de 
smokestack  a  cumin'  down,"  said  Coles  gravel}-.  Whereupon 
Danforth  pounced  upon  him,  shook  him,  and  they  both  rolled  on 
the  floor,  Stamp  snapping  at  Jim's  ears  in  a'  highly  amusing 
manner. 

"  O  Jack — he'll  turn  up — this  side  up  with  care — he's  safe — he's 
getting  up  his  running,  that's  all — he'll  lead  'em  a  dance  !  " 

"  Eh,  what  ?  "  asked  Tutor  Dilworthy.     "  Is  he  in  trouble  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest,  Tutor  Dilworthy." 

Although  their  beloved  tutor  was  unlike  any  tutor  ever  at  Yale 
before  or  since,  and  "  unbended  "  among  a  few  of  his  pupils  whom 
he  had  begun  to  like,  and  really  joined  in  their  fun  and  became 


n6  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

one  of  them,  yet  they  under  no  circumstances  were  willing  to  let 
him  know,  of  course,  in  what  manner  exactly  they  had  purchased 
the  King  and  the  Prince  of  Turkeys. 

"  You  see,"  said  Harry,  "  Jack  is  anxious  to  get  on  the  'varsity 
crew  next  June,  so  he's  begun  training  early — he  runs  every 
night — ten,  twenty,  sometimes  thirty  miles." 

Tutor  Dilworthy's  eyes  blinked.     He  couldn't  believe  it. 

Little  Nevers  said,  "Oh,  I  dare  say  Jack  has  slipped  out  to 
make  a  call  on  Prexy." 

"  I  imagine  he's  putting  on  his  dress  suit ;  he  wants  to  appear  in 
a  costume  befitting  this  august  occasion,"  said  another. 

"Perhaps  he's  been  dropped  somewhere,  like  Billy  Holland  and 
Caswell." 

"  Are  they  dropped  ?  "     Instantly  there  was  a  great  hubbub. 

"  Their  united  stand  only  amounted  to  the  sum  total  of  1.98," 
said  Tutor  Dihvorthy  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  By  Jove  !  Let's  welcome  them  into  Umpty-four  then — to 
night  !  "  cried  Danforth,  as  he  ran  a  spit  through  King  Gobble 
and  hung  him  between  two  stools  before  the  blazing  fire. 

"  But  poor  Jack  !  "  said  little  Nevers,  gazing  out  into  the  moon 
lit  street,  "  where  is  he,  really  /  " 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


THE    TURKEY    FEAST. 

[RY  to  picture  to  yourself,  dear  reader, 
on  that  cold,  frosty  night  in  November, 
the  curtains  drawn,  a  blazing  wood  fire 
in  the  old  Franklin  stove,  a.  fat  white 
turkey  turning  on  an  improvised  spit 
(Jack's  silver-headed  stick,  given  him 
by  his  mother  on  his  seventeenth  birth 
day),  a  roomful  of  jolly  freshmen  guv- 
ing  and  joking  with  their  tutor  (and  it 
was  a  rare  thing  for  a  tutor  to  unbend 
this  way),  and  Jim  Danforth  presiding 
over  the  cooking,  basting  the  unctuous,  crisp,  fat  turkey  with  a 
huge  iron  spoon  borrowed  from  Samanthy  (with  many  misgivings, 
doubtless,  on  her  part);  oysters  roasting  in  the  glowing  coals;  a 
dozen  of  beer  on  the  table,  and  a  box  of  cigars.  Enter  to  these 
Caswell  and  Holland,  bearing  between  them  half  a  dozen  magnums 
of  Clicquot  as  a  peace  offering. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Caswell,  as  he  entered  and  the  laughter  sub 
sided,  "we  meant  to  have  taken  you  in  to-night,  but  diis  aliter 
visum  (the  only  Latin  I  ever  knew),  you  have  taken  us  in.  Hol 
land  and  I  are  going  to  be  with  you  next  year.  The  faculty  have 
dropped  us !  " 

A  subdued  murmur  followed,  for  to  most  present  the  announce 
ment  was  no  longer  news.  The  faculty  dared  to  drop  the  great 
Holland,  the  president  of  the  D.  K.  campaign  committee!  How 
were  the  mighty  fallen,  indeed ! 

"Umpty-three  is  giving  us  her  very  totherbest,"  said  Danforth, 
"and  we're  proud  to  have  you  with  us,  though  I  must  confess  it 


!i8  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

W0n't— it  won't  seem  at  all  natural  not  to  have  Mr.  Caswell  in  the 
enemy's  ranks." 

"I  shall  wreak  a  full  and  hearty  vengeance  on  Umpty-five,"  said' 
Caswell  earnestly,  "for  this  wanton  act  of  the  faculty.     However, 
let  me  say  that  you  fellows  are  just  my  sort.     It  softens  my  fall  to 
find  myself  landed  with  the  'Gimly  gang.'  ' 

"Hear!  hear ! "  So  loud  and  long  that  Mrs.  Gimly's  knock  was 
heard.  Harry  hurried  out  and  pacified  her. 

"Why,"  said  Holland,  as  Harry  returned,  "your  invitation  to 
the  turkey  roast  sort  of  gives  me  a  turn,  as  the  old  lady  said  as  she 
mounted  her  bicycle.  It's  mighty  generous  of  you— particularly 
so,  Mr.  Thornton,  as  it  came  after  you  learned  that  we  were 
dropped.  By  Jove !  I  was  feeling  blue,  but  this  kind  welcome  of 
yours  at  this  time  comes  home  to  me  with  a  great  deal  of  real, 
heartfelt — I  don't  know  how  to  express  myself." 

There  was  a  profound  silence.  Everyone  felt  very  sorry  for 
Holland,  who  had  been  so  prominent  and  so  popular  in  his  class. 
Tutor  Dilworthy  said  kindly:  "There  is  one  thing  here  at  this 
pleasant  affair,  I  think — we  don't  feel  we  belong  to  any  particular 
class.  I  graduated  some  six  years  ago,  but  I  feel  like  a  freshman! 
I  believe  the  true  old  Yale  spirit  of  friendship  is  somewhere  hid 
ing  about  here.  Urn,  um;  I  think  I  smell  him!  " 

The  fat  turkey  just  then  seemed  to  give  out  a  specially  delight 
ful  and  delicious  odor.  "  By  the  bye,  how  did  you  boys  find  such 
excellent  turkeys  ?  You  are  good  judges,  I  dare  say  ?  "  asked  the 
tutor,  innocently  enough.  No  one  gave  the  secret  away,  of  course  ; 
but  everyone  knew  he  suspected.  Presently  Harry  pronounced 
the  turkey  done.  Thornton  pronounced  it  done.  Everyone  gave 
his  opinion,  and  it  was  pretty  generally  in  the  affirmative,  for  every 
one  was  as  hungry  by  this  time  as  a  Turk — for  turkey. 

"  Now  WHERE  is  JACK  ?  "  roared  Thornton,  "  I  don't  feel  like 
eating  without  Jack  !  " 

"  Nor  I,"  said  little  Nevers  fearfully. 

There  came  a  thundering  knock  at  the  door.     It  was  opened. 
Enter  a  really  handsome  girl,  in  blond  wig,  stylish  hat,  gants  de 
a  roguish  smile  played  on  her  pretty  lips.     She  was  dressed 


THE    TURKEY  FEAST.  119 

in  the  prevailing  mode  of  the  day,  a  high  bustle  which  she  wiggled 
coquetishly  as  she  walked  into  the  room,  and  smiled  vivaciously 
on  all  assembled. 

"Well,  really,  gentlemen,"  she  said.  "Aunt  Gimly  is  letting 
her  boarders  do 'bout  as  they  please — I  should  think!  I've  just 
come  to  town  from  Charmington,  where  I'm  at  school — ahem  ! — 
you  know — to  visit  Cousin  Samantha.  I've  only  come  down  to 
spend  a  week.  Miss  Stout  is  awfully  strict,  you  know — and  I 
thought  as  you  were  all  up  here  having  a  good  time — don't  you 
know — why — er — I'd  just  run  up  and  join  you  !  " 

"That's  right,  Jack  !"  roared  Harry. 

"  It's  Jack  in  his  jubilee  suit  he  appears  in  to-morrow  night  !  " 
laughed  Nevers. 

"Gentlemen  !  my  name  is  not  Jack!  how  can  you  ?  It's  very 
mortifying  to  be  called  Jack  among  so  many  men  !  Oh,  Mr.  Cas- 
well  !  I  think  you're  so  handsome  !  All  the  girls  are  crazy  over 
you  at  Charmington  ;  won't  you  just  get  fired  (ahem  !)  and  run  up 
and  see  us  again  ?  And  Mr.  Holland  ?  Well — really  !  " 

"  Oh,  we're  all  Umpty-four  men  to-night  !  "  laughed  Holland. 

"And — and  Tutor  Dilworthy  !  Oh  !  my  long  lost  love  !" 

The  girl  tried  to  embrace  him,  then  appeared  about  to  faint. 
"Where  am  I?"  she  cried,  falling  into  Coles'  extended  arms. 
"At  a  faculty  meeting  ?  " 

At  every  one  of  Jack's  sallies  there  were  great  roars  of  laughter 
and  shouts  of  joy.  Thornton  helped  the  turkey,  which  was  beauti 
fully  roasted,  and  Jack  did  the  cancan  on  the  table.  What  a 
dear  girl  he  made  !  His  features  were  very  regular,  and  his  eyes 
were  large  and  handsome.  Little  Nevers  fell  in  love  with  him 
forthwith,  and  declared  that  he  should  never  be  allowed  to  reassume 
his  "original  and  only  sex."  He  told  them  of  his  exciting  adven 
tures  in  his  escape  from  the  wrathful  Snigginscs,  of  daring  leaps 
over  ditches  and  stone  walls,  and  how  at  last  he  doubled  on  them 
and  got  away.  And  what  a  feast  they  had!  There  were  not 
enough  plates  to  go  around,  but  that  did  not  matter.  Some  drank 
their  champagne  out  of  toothmugs,  a  few  had  glasses.  Then  came 
the  roast  oysters,  and  everyone  talking  at  once,  and  two  o'clock 


1 20  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

struck  and  no  one  knew  it  or  cared ;  and  Tutor  Dilworthy  sang  a 
song,  "Let  every  good  fellow  fill  up  his  glass,"  and  Caswell  sang 
a  song,  and  then  everyone  sang,  but  they  voted  the  tutor's  the 
best  song  of  all. 

At  3:30  A.  M.  they  formed  in  a  body,  singing  (oh,  mortal  insult 
to  the  juniors!)  D.  K.  E.  songs,  and,  pretending  to  be  juniors, 
marched  down  on  to  the  campus.  Here  Tutor  Dilworthy,  seized 
with  a  sudden  spasm  of  conscience,  disappeared  utterly  from  their 
ken,  and  was  seen  to  dart  into  the  shadowy  portals  of  Old  South. 
So,  with  songs  on  the  fence,  ended  at  early  cockcrow  the  famous 
Thanksgiving  turkey  feast  of  Umpty-four. 

Oh,  stolen  joys  of  college  life!  How  sweet  they  are  in  esst 
and  in  recollection!  What  jovial  dreams  come  back  to  the 
old  and  enfeebled  alumnus  as  he  remembers  the  old  times,  the  open 
Franklin  stoves,  the  midnight  feasts,  the  good  fellowship,  the 
dare-devil  exploits,  the  rollicking  fun,  the  jokes,  and  the  perfect 
freedom  from  care,  except  as  to  that  awful  question  which  haunted 
like  a  "goblin  grim"  and  made  a  hideous  nightmare  of  freshman 
and  sophomore  years — "Am  I  below  average?  " 

Ah,  me  !  it  is  all  very  well  for  those  who  can  sleep  all  day  to  keep 
up  the  racket  all  night,  but  to  wake  and  hear  the  dreadful  chapel 
bell  ringing  in  one's  ears,  to  hurry  on  one's  clothes,  to  run  for 
prayers  at  full  speed  for  five  minutes  on  an  empty  stomach — such 
was  the  cruel  debt  they  had  to  pay  to  religion  the  next  morning  ! 
If  one  cut,  it  was  two  marks  ;  if  one  was  late,  it  was  also  two  marks  ; 
consequently  no  one  was  ever  late  at  chapel.  It  amused  Harry  to 
see  Tutor  Dilworthy  sitting  grim  and  bolt  upright  in  his  seat  as  if  he 
had  not  been  eating  turkey  until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  !  But, 
oh,  those  long,  dry,  dismal  morning  prayers  !  The  set  phraseology, 
the  quaint  early  English  technique  of  theology,  the  dull  appeals 
for  grace  in  a  shivering  atmosphere,  to  a  God  who  seemed  for  the 
moment  extremely  far  away  !  The  Bible  reading  of  the  prophets 
Isaiah,  or  Habakkuk,  never  listened  to,  never  half  heard  by  the 
five  or  six  hundred  students  who  are  busy,  heads  down  most  of 
them,  conning  over  their  morning  recitations.  As  between  the 
question  of  losing  his  soul  or  his  "  stand  "  a  college  boy  never 


THE    TURKEY  FEAST.  1 21 

hesitates.  He  is  a  worldling  of  worldlings,  and  to  him  there 
is  no  immediate  hereafter.  In  the  old  days,  in  the  old 
chapel,  the  seats  were  high-backed  and  favored  casting  hurried 
glances  at  text-books  before  recitation.  We  dare  say  all  this  is 
changed  for  the  better  now,  and  students  really  go  to  prayers  to 
pray. 

But  why  any  chapel  at  all  ? 

Perhaps  in  due  time  compulsory  prayers  will  be  relegated 
to  the  days  of  our  Puritan  ancestors  when  a  man  in  New 
Haven  never  dared  to  kiss  his  wife  of  a  Sunday  !  Certes,  chapel 
prayers  are  no  enjoyable  affair  to  our  freshmen  with  their  swelled 
heads  ! 

Of  the  absurdities  of  the  Thanksgiving  jubilee  which  took  place 
in  Alumni  Hall  the  following  night  it  will  not  be  found  advisable 
to  speak  until  the  later  years  of  college  life  shall  find  our  heroes 
upon  the  stage  figuring  in  the  grotesque  melodramas  which,  inter 
spersed  with  local  hits,  kept  Yale  students  up  laughing  till  all 
hours  (in  those  days)  prior  to  their  departure  for  home.  At  this 
time  it  was  the  one  annual  outburst  of  wit  and  good  fun — a  good 
deal  of  it  (it  must  be  admitted)  directed  against  the  faculty  and 
against  unpopular  professors  and  tutors.  Thanksgiving  jubilees  at 
Yale  are  of  the  mighty  past  ;  they  have  followed  the  Wooden 
Spoon,  the  Burial  of  Euclid  and  Omega  Lambda  Chi  into  desue 
tude. 

Then,  next  da}7  after,  came  that  pleasant  four  days  of  home. 
How  delightful  it  was  to  swagger  about  in  new  clothes  and  (away 
from  New  Haven)  sport  a  cane,  and  perhaps  in  stealth  a  beaver 
hat  !  Uncle  Dick  Lyman  gave  the  boys  a  dinner  at  his  club  in  New 
York  and  took  them  to  see  the  beautiful  Adelaide  Neilson,then  the 
reigning  star  in  public  favor.  They  returned  to  college  and  to 
study,  with  just  a  faint  suspicion  that  there  was  a  wider,  greater 
life  outside  the  university  ;  but  this  suspicion  hardly  increased  as 
time  wore  on. 

The  "little  "  life  in  college  in  the  four  years — how  great  and 
how  large  it  seemed  ! 

Of  the  hard  month  of  study  before  the  first-term  examinations  at 


122  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Christmas  the  less  said  the  better.  There  was  no  desirable  object 
in  compelling  the  poor  freshies  to  cram  Euclid  by  heart,  theorem, 
figures,  and  all.  To  Harry,  who  had  a  capital  memory,  it  was 
perhaps  an  advantage,  as  he  succeeded  in  memorizing  his  propo 
sitions  so  well  that  he  obtained  a  very  high  mark  on  the  exami 
nation. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


MRS.  MORIABTY  S  :  THE  PEETTY  ELLA. 

WHEN,  after  a  jolly  Christmas  vacation 
in  New  York,  they  returned  to  college, 
Uarry  found  that  he  had  been  elected  to 
the  honors  of  the  second  division.  Jack  was 
in  the  third,  Danforth  in  the  fourth,  and 
Thornton,  who  took  everything  so  easily, 
was  in  the  first.  The  great  event  of  Cas- 
well's  and  Holland's  fall  from  Umpty-three  to 
Umpty-four  had  already  become  a  nine-days' 

wonder,  and  the  college  had  settled  down  into  humdrum  winter- 
term  regularity,  when  a  trifling  little  event  happened  which  was 
to  have  a  great  effect  upon  our  hero's  after  life  in  college. 

Freshmen  were  at  this  time  tabooed  in  New  Haven.  They  were 
rarely  invited  out,  being  deemed  in  town  as  the  college  world 
deemed  them — too  raw  for  any  social  attention.  De  Garmo  came 
up  from  New  York  and  gave  them  dancing  lessons  once  a  week. 
They  could  dance  with  each  other  and  whirl  about,  knocking  knees, 
over  the  uneven  floor  of  the  dancing  academy  on  Chapel  Street, 
above  a  drug  store,  but  further  in  social  life  they  could  not  go. 
Harry  and  Jack  knew  a  little  about  the  art  from  their  sisters. 
They  despised  dancing  as  "girly-girly  "  and  silly.  But  one  even 
ing  they  found  two  invitations  on  their  study  table,  one  of  which 
read  as  follows  in  printed  writing  : 

"  The  company  of  Mr.  Henry  Chestleton,  of  Yale  College,  is 
hereby  requested  to  attend  the  sixteenth  annual  cake  walk  of  the 
Ebenezer  Chapel  Congregation  of  Free  and  Independent  Colored 
Methodists,  at  the  State  House  (basement),  on  Saturday,  January 
17,  18—,  at  8  o'clock  i>.  31." 


124 


COLLEGE   DA  YS. 


Mrs.  Gimly  came  up  to  say  that  a  colored  gentleman  had  calk 
and  left  the    «  invites,"  and    would    call    again  later  and  collect 
twenty-five  cents  for  each  "  invite." 


"  Shall  we  take  in  the  cake  walk  ?  "  said  Jack,  looking  up  rather 
blankly. 


MRS.  MORI  ARTY'S:    THE   PRETTY  ELLA.  125 

"Why  not — by  all  means!"  Harry  laughed.  "It's  our  first 
entrance  into  New  Haven  society.  It  may  be  the  side  door,  but 
we  must  remember  we  are  freshmen.  Beggars  must  not  be 
choosers  !  " 

Thornton  dropped  in  later  in  the  evening  and  complained  of  an 
enormous  and  unsatisfied  appetite,  which  one  of  Mrs.  Moriarty's 
Welsh  rarebits  alone  could  vanquish.  They  put  on  their  coats  and 
sauntered  down  to  the  old-fashioned  alehouse.  About  a  table  as 
they  entered  were  seated  half  a  dozen  of  their  own  class.  It  was 
quite  true  that  Umpty-four  had  shown  an  immediate  and  apparently 
unquenchable  fondness  for  Mrs.  Moriarty's  Bass  and  Burton.  Mrs. 
Moriarty  had  been  so  far  a  mother  to  them,  sympathizing  and  ad 
vising.  She  was  always  a  kind  mother  to  freshmen,  often  refusing 
a  fourth  mug  of  ale  if  she  thought  they  had  had  enough.  When  the 
boys  entered  she  was  seated  in  her  rocking  chair  behind  the  counter 
(wiped  as  clean  as  a  plate),  near  the  grate.  She  was  in  her  clean 
calico  frock  and  white  apron,  and  looked  tidy  and  neat  as  a  Phil 
adelphia  Quakeress.  Cook — pronounced  Coook — a  little  dried-up 
Englishman,  was  seated  at  a  table  drinking,  in  a  slow,  leisurely 
way,  a  pint  of  'alf  and  'alf.  Coook  was  a  fixture  at  Mrs.  Moriarty's, 
and  there  was  a  dim  suspicion  on  the  part  of  the  students  that  he 
was  "  waitin'  on  "  the  genial  widow,  and  was  her  "  steady  com 
pany." 

"  Are  you  going  to  take  in  the  cake  walk?  "  was  the  question  on 
all  sides.  And  every  freshman  present  thought  it  would  be  a  good 
joke  to  "  black  up  "  and  attend  in  a  body. 

Presently  in  came  Hetherington,  "  the  Greek  wonder,"  looking 
very  feeble  and  old.  He  had  hardly  gotten  over  a  week's  spree. 
He  sat  down  at  the  freshman  table,  bowing  to  everyone.  lie 
only  seemed  to  be  acquainted  with  freshmen.  Hardly  a  man  in  the 
room  but  pitied  him  and  looked  down  on  him.  Poor  old  Hether 
ington  !  His  brain  was  still  capable  of  great  effort  if  well  directed  ; 
but  rum  had  so  far  "  got  him  dead,"  as  the  freshmen  Avhispered 
about  one  to  the  other,  and  his  hand  trembled  as  he  raised  his 
glass  of  Bass  to  his  lips. 

Here  was  a  strong,  able  man,  only  thirty-three  years  old,  going 


126  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

to  the  dogs— if  he  had  not  already  gone.  Harry  looked  at  him 
pityingly.  He  and  Hetherington  had  been  good  friends  ever  since 
that  day  at  Brood's.  He  had  been  up  twice  in  the  boys'  room  in 
York  Street  and  had  told  them  long,  interesting  tales  of  Yale  and 
her  glories  in  the  past.  He  had  lasting  reverences  for  the  "  great " 
and  learned  professors  whose  mortal  frames  rested  in  the  old  grave 
yard  near  Center  Congregational  Church. 

The  freshmen  sat  about  the  round  table — ten  of  them — and 
began  with  their  "  rabbits  "  and  ale  to  get  very  noisy.  Hodge,  Dick- 
son,  and  Brewer  came  in,  seniors,  with  their  awful  glittering  golden 
badges  on  their  scarfs.  Instantly  there  was  a  hush.  The  seniors 
were  very  great  men.  They  seemed  very  important  and  old,  older 
far  than  poor  Hetherington,  who  sat  silentl}r  leaning  over  his  ale 
cup  and  looking  solemnly  down  into  the  lees  as  if  he  saw  there 
the  dregs  of  his  ill-spent  life.  His  life  was  a  lesson  to  those  boys, 
but  who  received  it  ? 

A  night  or  two  thereafter  came  the  cake  walk.  Upper-class 
students  might  go  out  and  dine  with  the  New  Haven  nabobs 
on  Temple  and  Elm  streets  ;  yea,  truly,  and  penetrate  as  far  as 
the  palaces  of  the  rich  and  great  on  Hillhouse  Avenue  ;  it  was 
left  for  freshmen  to  shine  at  the  great  Ebenezer  cake  walk 
among  the  highest  ornaments  of  colored  society  in  the  large 
empty  hall  beneath  the  old  State  House.  Harry  and  Jack,  well 
corked  and  wearing — as  did  many  others — fantastic  regalia 
hired  for  the  occasion,  presented  their  tickets  in  due  form  to  a 
huge  grinning  darky  in  a  dress  suit,  a  sort  of  major  domo,  who 
stood  at  the  door  and  bid  each  guest  a  hearty  welcome.  In  the 
hall,  when  they  arrived,  there  was  already  a  crowd  of  fifty  or  sixty 
of  "de  bes'  an'  mos'  refined  cullud  folk  in  de  city,"  as  a  "cullud 
genman"  informed  them.  A  dozen  dim  lamps  gave  forth  a 
dubious  light,  and  in  the  semi-darkness  the  freshmen  were  not 
recognized.  It  was  just  a  lark,  and  Thornton,  who  could  do  any 
thing  with  his  feet,  executed  a  capital  hornpipe  for  the  delectation 
of  the  assembled  guests  before  the  walk  began. 

The  spacious  low-ceilinged  hall  was  now  getting  to  be  crowded 
with  colored  brethren  and  sisters.  A  large  barrel  of  cider  at  five 


MRS.  MORIARTY'S:    THE  PRETl^Y  ELLA.  127 

cents  a  glass,  with  sandwiches  for  ten  cents,  stood  on  a  counter  on 
which  was  the  enormous  frosted  raisin  cake  to  be  given  to  the  win 
ner  of  the  cake  walk.  Jack  and  Harry  walked  about  arm  in  arm, 
tried  the  cider,  listened  to  the  really  good  banjo  music,  and  were 
attracted  to  one  end  of  the  hall  near  the  darky  band.  Here,  sur 
rounded  by  a  dense  crowd,  a  showy,  elegantly  formed  young' 
negress  was  doing  the  sailor's  hornpipe.  Harry  had  never  'seen 
such  dancing.  It  was  a  thing  of  art.  He  pressed  through  the 
crowd  into  the  first  rank,  and  the  saucy  blue  eyes  of  the  danseuse 
fastened  upon  him.  She  was  very  graceful,  and  Harry's  admira 
tion  was  clearly  conveyed  in  the  applause  as  she  finished.  She 
drew  out  a  large  yellow  bandanna  from  her  pocket  and  just  touched 
her  brow  as  she  brushed  by  Harry,  saying  : 

"  Oh,  go  along  !     Honey,  you  aint  no  nigger — sho  !  " 

"  Nor  are  you  !  "  laughed  Harry,  "  for  I  can  see  the  white  on 
your  wrist." 

The  danseuse  laughed  very  heartily.  "  We're  just  here  for  a 
lark.  Three  of  us  girls  just  blacked  up  and  came  along.  Isn't  it 
fun  !  " 

"  You  dance  like  a — fairy,"  said  the  lad,  offering  his  arm. 

"  Oh,  my  sister  is  in  the  variety  business.  I  may  be,  too,  some 
day.  She  taught  me.  Come,  there  goes  a  waltz." 

De  Garmo  had  not  yet  perfected  Harry  in  the  waltz  step,  but  he 
managed  to  do  pretty  well.  It  was  not  well  enough  for  his 
"  lady,"  however.  She  made  him  stop.  "  Oh,  I'd  rather  walk  !  " 
she  said.  Then,  after  a  moment,  she  added  :  "  Say,  haven't  I  seen 
you  up  to  the  colleges  ?  I  passed  you  one  da}r.  I  don't  forget 
faces.  You  were  polite  ;  you  took  off  your  hat  to  me." 

"  Yes  ;  I  remember  now,"  said  Harry. 

"  Oh,  there's  Mame  and  Minnie  now,"  she  laughed,  pointing  to 
two  girls  blacked  as  she  was,  who  were  talking  to  some  students. 
Harry  purposely  led  her  away  from  her  girl  friends.  He  felt  it 
was  very  wicked,  but  it  seemed  so  pleasant  to  feel  the  girl's  light, 
pretty  hand  resting  on  Ids  arm.  He  felt  a  little  thrill  as  she  said  : 

"  Say,  I  always  liked  you  for  taking  off  your  hat  that  day.  I've 
remembered  it  ever  since." 


I2g  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"  Have  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I've  met  you  on  Chapel  Street  four  times,  and  you 

never  looked  at  me  !  " 

Harry  pretended  not  to  hear  this. 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  Turn-verein  next  Thursday?"  she  asked. 

"  The  Turn-verein  ?     What's  that  ?  " 

"  The  German  ball." 

"  Well,  I  hadn't  thought  of  it,"  said  Harry,  amused. 

"  Minnie  and  Mame  are  going  and  I  guess  I'll  go  if  I  can  get  my 
dress  fixed.  I  am  going  to  have  a  new  white  muslin.  I've  saved 
it  out  of  my  wages.  I  only  get  five  dollars  a  week,  and  I  give 
mother  three  dollars,  and  that  leaves  two  dollars,  and  oh,  I  have  so 
many,  many  things  I  need.  I  wish  I  had  some  new  gloves  for  the 
ball.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  go." 

"  How  much  would  they  cost  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  Two  dollars  ;  but  I  can  get  them  at  the  store  for  $1.63." 

Harry  slipped  a  two-dollar  bill  into  .her  hand. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  can't  accept  it  from  a  stranger." 

"  Why,  Pm  not  a  stranger,  am  I  ?  " 

"  Will  you  come  to  the  ball  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  dance  with  me  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Say,  what  is  your  name?  Oh,  I  think  students  are  awful 
nice  !  " 

"My  name  is  Wilkins.  I'm  in  Umpty-two — a  junior,  you 
know." 

"  Are  you  going  to  walk  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Yes,  do  ;  that's  what  we  came  for.  Mame  and  Minnie  are 
going  to." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  don't  care,  if  you  walk  with  me." 

Blacked  as  she  was  he  could  see  how  graceful  and  pretty  the 
girl  was,  and  what  beautiful  hair  she  had.  He  remembered  the 
pretty  shop  girl  now  very  well.  It  was  she  who  threw  him  a 
saucy  kiss  that  first  morning  when  he  was  out  on  the  campus 


MA'S.   MORIARTY'S:    THE   PRETTY  ELLA.  129 

conning  bis  Vergil.  How  long  ago  it  seemed  !  And  she  had  borne 
him  in  mind  ever  since  !  After  all,  what  harm  would  ever  come  of 
a  little  fun  with  this  pretty  shop  girl  ? 

Before  the  evening  was  over  be  had  promised  absolutely  to 
attend  the  German  ball  of  the  Tnrn-verein.  He  had  done  more  ; 
as  he  was  evidently  not  a  good  dancer  be  had  agreed  to  call  at 
Ella's  house,  in  the  outskirts  of  New  Haven,  and  she  and  Mame 
and  Minnie  would  give  him  a  few  lessons. 

That  cake  walk  !  He  hardly  cared  what  was  going  on.  His 
head  was  in  a  whirl.  He  thought  he  wouldn't  tell  Jack,  who  kept 
hanging  around  and  obtruding  in  the  way,  waiting  for  an  introduc 
tion.  He  and  the  pretty  Ella  got  some  applause,  but  the  cake 
went  to  two  tall  bona-fide  darkies,  a  "  Villikins  and  his  Dinah" — 
"  Villikins  "  was  an  influential  deacon  in  the  Ebenezer  Church.  Jack 
and  his  freshmen  pals  in  some  way  got  hold  of  Mame  and  Minnie, 
and  before  the  evening  was  over  Ella  was  introduced  all  around, 
and  the  Turn-verein  was  generally  discussed.  Harry  was  not  the 
only  freshman  who  agreed  to  be  on  hand  at  the  German  ball. 
Evidently  Umpty-four  was  not  destined  to  be  entirely  kept  out  of 
all  "  society  "  in  freshman  year  ! 

The  Turn-verein  ball  came  off,  and  the  boys  had  attended  it  in 
due  form.  They  danced  with  Miss  Frankenstein,  Miss  Ilimmel- 
deiner,  Miss  Rosenheimer,  Miss  Doppleschin  and  the  Misses 
Gerhart,  "Maine,"  Ella,  and  Minnie.  "Mame"  was  Ella's  sister. 
"Minnie"  was  a  Miss  Ilansen.  There  had  been  plenty  of  beer 
downstairs,  but  everything  had  been  very  respectable  and  well 
conducted.  There  was  no  doubt  at  all  in  the  minds  of  all  the 
freshmen  that  Ella  was  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  ballroom.  In  her 
white  dress  stylishly  cut,  her  pretty  ribbons,  her  long  gloves  with 
seven  buttons,  Harry  had  fairly  lost  his  heart  over  her.  He  felt  a 
strange  amusement  in  the  society  of  the  pretty  girl.  She  was  very 
bright,  rather  gav,  yet  innocent.  Harry  amused  Jack  by  his 
account  of  the  Gerhart  menage  in  their  little  house  in  the 
suburbs. 

"The  night  I  went  up  there  to  call  on  Ella,"  he  said,  "she 
introduced  me  to  her  father,  a  horny-handed  old  inventor,  with 


130  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

the  head  and  brow  of  Jove.  I  take  it  the  old  man  if  a  sort  of  an 
ex-machinist.  You  know  those  fellows  are  always  inventing 
something.  Mother  Gerhart  is  a  large,  good-locking  German 
woman,  with  fine  eyes.  Ella  gets  her  eyes  frorr  her  mother. 
They  are  very  poor.  But  they  go  to  one  of  the  most  'stylish' 
churches  in  New  Haven,  they  say,  and  the  girls  dress — don't  they? 
— very  nicely.  When  I  called  the  old  man  had  been  working  at 
his  apparatus — something  in  electricity  he  told  me.  His  hands 
were  all  greasy,  but  he  didn't  hesitate  to  shake.  A  funny  thing  was 
Ella  saw  it  and  blushed  a  bright  red,  while  I  coyly  wiped  my  hand 
on  my  handkerchief.  Ella  seems  so  afraid  that  I  will  observe  the 
evidences  of  their  poverty.  She's  a  great  girl;  she's  got  a  good 
voice,  and  how  fond  they  are  of  dancing!  Even  the  old  man, 
Jack;  he  is  six  feet  high  and  a  huge,  kindly  old  fellow,  well  read 
in  his  native  tongue,  quotes  Faust  at  you  and  Schiller;  he  plays 
the  violin  and  mamma  plays  the  old  rattley  piano.  It  is  a  family 
that  has  seen  better  days — in  Berlin.  Everything  in  the  house  is 
as  neat  as  wax." 

"Oh,  by  the  way,"  interrupted  Jack,  "you  were  writing  to  your 
mother  to-night.  Did  you — of  course  you  told  her  all  about  the 
cake  walk,  the  Turn-verein,  and  the  pleasing  Gerhart  family?" 

Harry  looked  up. 

"I  confess  I  have  grave  twinges  of  conscience,  but  yet  Ella  is  a 
very  nice,  honest  girl;  and  as  long  as  I  am  not  especially  in  love 
with  her " 

"Oh,  of  course  then  I  would  not  mention  her!"  laughed  Jack. 

"Did  you  write  to  General  Rives  about  it  all?  " 

"Why,  no;  the  governor  would  probably  imagine  all  sorts  of 
things." 

"Why,  so  would  my  mother." 

"People  at  home  are  always  so  eager  to  jump  to  conclusions," 
laughed  Jack.  "Now,  how  it  would  sound  if  they  heard  all  the 
facts!" 

"Why,  I  consider  it  one  of  the  reasons  why  a  man  ought  never 
go  to  college  in  a  place  where  his  family  lives.  There  are  so  many 
things " 


MRS.  MORIARTY'S:    THE   PRETTY  ELLA.  131 

"Yes,  so  many  things,  ahem!  " 

"Things  which  are  nothing  in  themselves  but  jokes,  fun,  part  of 
the  life  here.  You  don't  want  our  turkey  episode  blazoned  out  in 
print,  eh?" 

"No,  nor  our  sign  steals.  By  the  way,  that  gold  tooth  hang 
ing  out  of  that  dentist's  shop  on  the  corner  of  York  and  Elm — 
I  will  own  that  golden  tooth  some  day,  shan't  I,  Stamp,  old 
man,  eh?" 

The  dog  looked  up  and  winked  knowingly. 

"But  about  this  girl.  I've  asked  Ella  to  go  to  the  'theayter,' 
as  she  calls  it,  next  Saturday  night.  Lydia  Thompson,  you 
know " 

"O  Harry!  don't.     Everyone  will  be  there  and  will  see  you!" 

"By  Jove,  I'm  not  ashamed  to  be  seen  with  Ella  Ger- 
hart!"  Harry  spoke  with  some  heat.  "Besides  to  her — I'm 
Wilkins !" 

"Well,  she  is  hardly  in  the  set  we  will  hope  to  be  in  event 
ually,  is  she?" 

"I  don't  care,"  replied  Harry  doggedly.  "I'm  going  to  take 
her." 

Jack  was  by  this  time  undressed  and  in  bed.  He  said  nothing 
and  went  off  gently  to  sleep,  as  Harry  sat  up  in  the  glow  of  the 
fire  and  excused  himself  for  his  growing  infatuation  for  the 
beautiful  shop  girl. 

Winter  term,  with  its  Junior  Promenade — the  swellest  ball  of 
the  year — passed  so  rapidly  that  Easter  vacation  came  upon  them 
with  almost  a  sudden  surprise.  There  was  so  much  to  do — the 
recitations,  the  lectures,  the  outside  fun,  the  balls — they  went  to 
four — the  "shows,"  the  midnight  escapades,  the  rows  with  the 
sophs,  which  gradually  died  out  in  fury  as  the  year  progressed. 
When  they  came  back  for  the  spring  or  summer  term  Harry  was 
in  the  third  division;  he  had  dropped  from  his  lofty  perch  in  the 
second,  and  the  two  chums  were  together — he  hadn't  devoted  much 
time  to  his  studies. 

"Ah,"  said  Jack,  "it  is  all  that  Ella  Gerhart— give  her  up, 
Harry." 


I32  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

Harry  drew  himself  up  rather  stiffly. 

"She  is  one  of  the  most  innocent  girls  in  the  world,"  he  said. 
"Besides,  she  will  be  a  great  help  to  me  in  my  German." 

Jack  said  nothing,  but  as  he  was  going  over  to  the  "gym"  for 
a  row  on  the  weights  (he  and  Thornton  were  getting  up  a  capital 
freshman  crew  to  meet  Harvard  in  July),  he  merely  whistled 
incredulously  and  went  out.  After  Jack  had  gone  a  buggy  drove 
up  to  Mrs.  Gimly's  with  a  fast-looking  nag.  Harry  muffled  him 
self  up  in  his  great  ulster,  for  the  day  was  rather  raw  and 
"springy,"  and  went  down  and  got  in.  The  livery-stable  boy 
handed  him  a  little  bill.  "Fifty-seven  dollars!"  Harry  cried, 
amazed.  "  Why,  this  is  an  outrage !" 

"Well,  it's  them  'acks  fer  them  balls  is  included,  sir,  an'  they's 
at  least  ten  buggies,  sir." 

And  the  stable  boy  winked. 

Harry  drove  off  indignantly.  He  turned  down  Elm  and  out 
Whitney  Avenue.  Who  is  that  tall,  pretty  young  girl  in  red 
ribbons  waiting  on  the  path  so  expectantly?  Ah,  what  a  charm 
ing  complexion!  She  is  rather  st}rlishly  dressed,  too.  She  hag 
little  feet  and  little  white  hands,  ungloved.  Our  hero  gets  out  and 
gallantly  helps  her  in,  and  they  drive  away  together  into  the  sandy 
lanes  toward  Lake  Whitney.  She  is  very  happy.  She  laughs 
and  "giggles."  She  has  implicit  trust — arid*  rightly,  for  is  not 
Harry  one  of  the  finest  fellows  in  all  Yale  College?  A  half  hour 
later,  if  one  could  see  them,  along  a  side  lane,  the  horse  is  walking 
and  her  pretty  head  has  fallen  upon  his  shoulder. 

"And  will  you  always — always — love  me  as  you  do  now,  Mr. 
Wilkins?"  (Faintly.) 

"  Always ;  but  of  course  you  know " 

"Oh,  crickets!     Look  at  that  cow!     That's  bad  luck,  sure!" 

A  cow  crossed  their  track.  Pretty  Ella  Gerhart  sat  up  very 
straight  and  refused  to  be  comforted.  There  were  tears  of  antici 
pated  calamity  in  her  fine  blue  eyes. 

"You're  not  afraid  of  a  cow,  Ella?  " 

"No,  but  it's  a  sign.  Oh,  Mr.  Wilkins!  you  don't  really 
care  for  me." 


MRS.  MORIARTY'S:    THE  PRETTY  ELLA. 


133 


I  swear  I- 


"No,  I  aint  one  of  your  kind.  I  know  it.  I  ought  never  to 
have  met  you.  I  ought  never  to  see  you  again.  Never!  never!" 
and  she  burst  into  tears. 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her,  and  the  buggy  drew  out 
of  the  long  winding  lane  into  the  highroad.  They  trotted  home 
in  time  for  his  afternoon  recitation,  at  which  Harry  made  a  dead 
Hunk.  He  would  do  anything  for  that  girl,  he  thought.  Once  or 
twice  the  crazy  idea  entered  his  boyish  mind  that  he  would  leave 
college  and  marry  her! 


CHAPTER  XV. 

OLD      BOATINQ.     LIFE. 

AS  spring  drew  on  Harry  soon  had  his  afternoons  well  taken 
up  with  his  freshman  nine.  He  practiced  them  every  day  at 
running,  throwing,  and  batting.  One  day  the  "university"  played 
them  a  practice  game  of  -five  innings  and  had  a  remarkably 
difficult  time  hitting  his  pitching.  Big  Guthrie  and  huge  Mur 
doch  each  fanned  the  air  twice!  It  was  in  the  early  days,  when 
an  overhand  throw  was  first  allowed.  Captain  Harding,  after 
fouling  twice,  hit  a  feeble  grounder  to  short  and  was  easily  thrown 
out.  The  freshmen  almost  won  the  game,  the  score  being  3-4. 

An  old  ballplayer,  who  had  played  and  pitched  years  ago  on  the 
Boston  Excelsiors,  taught  Harry  to  pitch  and  to  try  some  curves 
and  "in-shoots"  of  his  own  device.  When  throwing  came  in 
Harry  followed  up  his  teaching  and  could  curve  a  ball  so  that  it 
was  almost  impossible  to  hit  it.  He  could  not  explain  it  himself. 
He  called  it  a  "knack."  Captain  Harding  had  wanted  at  the  first 
organization  of  the  'varsity  nine  to  put  Harry  on  with  Jim  Dan- 
forth,  but  upper-class  politics  at  first  prevailed. 

One  Saturday  afternoon,  fortunately,  Curtis  was  ill  and  could 
not  play.  It  was  to  be  a  practice  game  against  the  Amherst  nine. 

Danforth  had  been  urging  Harding  to  try  Harry  in  the  pitcher's 
box. 

"Try  him,  Captain  Harding,"  said  Jim.  "I  tell  you  he  can 
curve  a  ball  so  that  no  one  can  hit  it.  Give  him  a  chance.  The 
time  has  gone  by  when  we  can  hope  to  beat  Harvard  by  main 
strength  and  hard  swearing." 

"I'll  think  of  it,"  replied  Harding,  and  that  afternoon  he  told 
Harry  he  could  play  in  the  Amherst  game. 

So  it  happened  that  Harry,  who  had  played  shortstop  at  Andover 


OLD  BOATING  LIFE.  135 

and  had  really  pitched  only  one  or  two  games  before  he  came  to 
college,  thus  became  a  college  pitcher.  The  Amherst  nine  was  a 
good  one  that  year,  but  it  could  do  nothing  with  him.  Harry 
struck  out  thirteen  men  during  the  game  and  was  allowed  to  pitch 
the  entire  nine  innings.  Yale  won,  14-3.  The  college  papers 
carne  out  and  praised  him  very  highly  after  that  day.  He  was 
getting  his  hand  in  and  putting  on  new  "twists,"  as  they  called 
them  then.  Danforth  coached  him. 

"  O  Dan  !  "  said  Harry  one  day,  "  if  we  could  put  our  freshman 
battery  in  the  university  nine !  " 

"Wait  another  year,"  said  Danforth  gloomily. 

Meanwhile  the  days  grew  on  into  May  and  the  summer  term 
began  in  earnest.  Somehow  the  various  recitations  seemed  to 
grow  easier,  the  whole  college  appeared  to  relax  its  tension,  to 
grow  more  fond  of  amusement,  to  spend  its  time  outdoors.  The 
long  looked  for  day  arrived  when  freshmen  were  allowed  to  wear 
beavers,  and  there  was  in  the  Andover  crowd  a  swell  dinner  in 
consequence  at  Gradley's.  There  were  thirty  fresh  gentlemen 
present.  The  early  part  of  the  dinner  was  conducted  with  remark 
able  decorum;  but  the  iced  champagne  was  very  seductive.  Jack, 
really  for  the  first  time,  quite  lost  his  head.  There  were  speeches 
commemorative  of  the  occasion,  and  Jack  could  'do  nothing  but 
sing  and  dance  a  ballet  accompaniment.  On  the  way  home  the 
freshmen  marched  up  and  "sung"  before  all  the  ladies'  seminaries 
of  the  city  and  sang  discordantly,  too,  all  the  old,  old  college 
songs.  There  were  the  usual  signs  of  commotion  at  upper-window 
blinds.  A  candle  was  lit,  a  few  flowers  were  dropped  out  of  a 
window  and  eagerly  seized  by  the  uproarious  students.  Those 
midnight  serenades  at  the  seminaries,  what  terrible  exhibitions  of 
student  singing  they  were!  Yet  how  well  rewarded!  "Upidee," 
"When  Freshmen  First  We  Carne  to  Yale,"  "Lauriger  Iloratius," 
"Nelly  Wras  a  Lady,"  all  the  time-honored  songs  howled  with  a 
champagny  fervor,  yelled  at  the  top  of  their  young  vociferous 
lungs,  always  meeting  with  the  never-failing  appreciative  response 
from  the  fair  inmates!  Perhaps  they  were  well  disposed  in  favor 
of  the  night  howlers.  The  "fern  sems,"  as  they  were  called,  evi- 


I36  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

dently  required  a  very  moderate  standard  of  musical  ability  in 
their  student  admirers. 

Then  came,  too,  in  May  the  election  into  the  sophomore  societies. 
Harry  and  Jack  were  elected  into  Delta  Beta  Xi,  while  Thornton 
and  Coles  went  to  Phi  Theta  Psi.  There  was  at  this  time  about 
as  much  difference  in  relative  rank  of  the  two  soph  societies  as 
there  is  between  tweedle-dum  and  tweedle-dee.  They  have  since 
met  an  untimely  death  by  judicial  decree.  The  tremendous 
secrets  which  wore  hidden  beneath  the  Greek  letters  shall  never  be 
revealed  by  this  pen  !  Nor  shall  the  grip  be  divulged,  nor  the 
terrific  initiation,  nor  the  sacred  penates  be  dragged  forth  into  the 
light  of  common  day. 

Alas,  these  societies  only  exist  now  in  their  songs  ! 

"  By  fell  decree 
Of  Facultee, 
They  are  no  more, 
Oh,  Sophomore  ! " 

The  sensation  of  spring  term  in  boating  circles  was  the  return 
of  Ad  or  "  Bob  "  Clark,  as  he  was  familiarly  called,  with  "the 
English  stroke  "  in  his  pocket."  He  had  spent  three  months  in 
England,  coached  by  boating  celebrities  of  the  London  Rowing 
Club  and  by  old  'varsity  oars  at  Oxford.  It  was  really  to  be  an 
event  in  American  rowing  annals.  The  new  stroke  was  said  to  be 
a  novelty  and  to  introduce  a  new  principle.  College  boating 
affairs  were  at  such  a  low  ebb  (even  little  Williams  pushed  the 
nose  of  her  shell  ahead  of  Yale  the  year  previous  at  Springfield) 
that  Clark  was  at  once  empowered  to  select  his  own  crew  and  to 
test  the  new  stroke  for  all  it  was  worth.  There  were  plenty  of 
detractors  and  plenty  of  "  kickers,"  but  Clark  fed  and  grew  fat 
on  adverse  criticism.  He  got  together  a  crew  which  would  obey 
him  absolutely.  In  fact  he  compelled  them  to  obey  him  by  first 
thrashing  each  member  of  the  crew.  Then  he  went  to  woi'k  teach 
ing  them  the  intricate  English  stroke.  His  perseverance  was 
marvelous.  The  crew  learned  his  stroke  in  less  time  than  any  crew 
had  ever  "  got  together"  before.  There  were  no  coxswains  in  those 


OLD   BOATING   LIFE.  137 

days  and  the  crews  were  composed  of  six,  with  the  bow  oar  doing 
all  the  steering  with  his  feet.  Such  was  the  general  distrust  in  col 
lege,  however,  that  the  freshmen  were  put  in  the  hands  of  Hamin, 
a  professional  trainer  from  Pittsburgh.  Bob  Clark  said  nothing, 
however,  and  even  his  enemies  and  detractors  admired  his  quiet 
pluck. 

The  two  crews,  'varsity  and  freshman,  went  to  their  training 
table  about  the  middle  of  May.  In  those  days — days  so  far  back, 
oh,  undergrad,  that  they  date  before  the  days  of  the  new  boathouse — 
the  barnlike  structure  across  the  street  fence,  the  steamboat  wharf 
near  the  bridge,  had  only  two  lofts  in  use.  In  the  tipper  loft 
were  stored  the  antiquated  boats  of  the  old  Yale  navy.  High  on 
a  beam  was  nailed  the  name  of  the  first  raceboat  owned  by  Yale  in 
1843,  called  Pioneer,  Yale,  No.  1  ;  near  it  was  the  outline  of  the 
old  Yale  boat  Excelsior,  which  won  many  a  race  from  the  New 
Haven  oystermen  in  the  early  fifties.  In  those  days  they  rowed 
from  Sachem's  Head  to  the  old  wharf  at  New  Haven.  The  shape 
of  the  old  eight-oared  Shawmut  and  a  cut  framed  in  oak  hung  near 
a  dusty  window.  The  Shaivntut  had  sternsheets  for  six  passengers, 
and  the  captain's  seat  at  the  extreme  stern  of  the  boat  was  elevated 
above  the  gunwale,  so  that  he  could  overlook  the  heads  of  his  crew 
and  spur  them  on  to  victory.  There  was  a  picture  also  of  (he 
Osceola,  of  eight  oars  and  thirty-six  feet  long,  which  raced  from 
the  year  1847  to  1853.  The  picture  of  the  Augusta,  another  eight- 
oared  craft,  contained  beneath  its  frame  a  short  and  simple  history.* 
The  boat  was  clinker-built,  of  red  cedar  with  boxwood  ribs,  copper 
fastened,  and  cost  when  new  three  hundred  dollars,  but  was  sold  to 
'52  for  a  supper.  She  was  wrecked  one  windy  afternoon  in  1853  off 
Crane's  Bar  while  being  towed  with  a  load  of  straw  toward  the  shore 
of  Fort  Hale,  where  the  crew,  dressed  in  white  togas  and  witli  gar 
lands  of  flowers  on  their  heads,  were  intending  to  offer  her  as  a  burnt 
sacrifice  to  Neptune. 

The  old  boathouse  had  no  modern  arrangements  for  "  showers," 
and  it  was  the  custom  of  the  crews  (hardy  young  rascals)  to  jump 

*  For  which  we  are  indebted  to  Mr.  Bung's  "  Four  Years  ;it  Yule." 


\ 

I38  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

into  the  salt,  brackish  water  off  the  float  after  rowing,  as  early  as 
March.  It  never  seemed  to  hurt  them.  On  clumsy  racks  were 
hung  the  'varsity  six-oared  shells,  of  the  "shell  period  "  from  1864 
to  1870,  and  the  revered  craft  of  '65  and  '66,  used  by  the  famous 
"Wilbur  Bacon"  crews  of  those  years,  warped  now  and  out  of 
shape.  At  one  side  were  some  further  old  cuts  and  memorabilia 
on  the  walls.  Among  them  an  account  of  the  "  Prize  Regatta  of 
'56,  the  prize  an  elegant  boat  lantern."  The  distance  was  three 
miles,  and  the  Transit  covered  it  in  21m.  12s.,  with  the  Nereid 
second  in  22m.  4s.,  the  Nautilus  and  Wa-  Wa  third  and  fourth. 
The  Transit  was  of  the  scientific  school,  with  six  oars  only.  There 
were  several  old  regatta  posters  in  frames  of  those  old  times  "  afo' 
de  wah,"  when  races  of  sharpies,  rowboats,  and  all  manner  and  kind 
of  craft  enlivened  an  afternoon  on  New  Haven  harbor.  Near  by 
hung  a  list  of  old  raceboats,  commencing  with  the  Atlanta,  1850  ; 
the  JSxcelsior,  1852  (six-oared)  ;  the  Shawmut,  the  Phantom  (five- 
oared),*  the  Halcyon  (eight-oared),  purchased  from  Harvard,  and 
the  Undine.  In  those  pleasant  old  days  (our  grandmothers  remem 
ber  them)  "  the  devotees  of  Mercury  had  boats  consisting  of  forty 
feet  of  quarter-inch  plank,  brought  together  at  each  end,  carrying 
nothing  but  the  crew  and  two  boat  hooks,  gliding  swiftly  past  with 
their  ambitious  load.  The  claims  of  Venus  are  not  to  be  despised, 
however,  and  the  broad,  velvet-cushioned,  prettily  painted  barges 
of  the  earlier  day  go  struggling  after,  laden  down  to  the  water's 
edge  with  their  fair  burden  of  New  Haven's  fairest." 

This  marked  a  vast  change  in  the  sport  of  College  boat  racing, 
i.e.,  when  ladies  ceased  to  be  admitted  to  the  race  barge  ! — and  the 
race  became  not  a  thing  of  pleasure  but  a  stern  struggle  for  glory 
and  prestige. 

By  the  middle  of  May  boating  life  was  well  started.  Clark 
went  ding-dong  at  his  'varsity  crew,  introducing  several  new  little 
points  of  coaching  they  had  taught  him  at  Oxford.  He  took  them 
far  up  the  Quinnipiac,  "  far  from  the  madding  "  crowd  of  student 

*  From  a  list  in  the  Yale  Literary  Magazine  of  June,  1857.  The  writer  adds : 
"That  larboard  bowsraan  must  have  been  a  Hercules  ! " 


OLD  BOATING  LIFE.  139 

a^d  town  onlookers,  who  used  to  congregate  on  the  old  bridge  and 
criticise  the  crew  as  Clark  stroked  them  out  around  the  oyster 
stakes  and  so  on  up  the  river.  The  crew  did  not  look  promising, 
and  the  rowing  wiseacres  shook  their  heads. 

"  We're  trusting  a  good  deal  to  Clark  and  his  new-fangled 
ideas,"  they  said.  The  fact  that  Yale  was  a  "  tail  ender  "  the  year 
previous  was  one  reason  why  Clark  was  allowed  more  freedom  of 
action  than  he  otherwise  would  have  had. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


SOPHOMORE    SOCIETY    INITIATIONS. 


S 


UMMER  days  were  drawing  on  apace. 
Harry  was  very  busy  with  his  fresh 
man  nine  and  Jack  with  his  crew.  Harry 
pitched  several  games  on  the  'varsity  nine, 
but  so  far  wicked  upper-class  favoritism 
prevented  his  becoming  the  regular  college 
pitcher.  Dan  forth  kept  gaining  steadily 
in  favor,  as  the  fine  plays  he  made  at 
second  base  were  often  what  the  report 
ers  called  phenomenal. 

The  event  of  importance  about  this  time  was  the  giving  out 
sopho.  society  elections.  Freshmen  were  expected  to  set  up  a 
spread  to  their  upper-class  friends  in  their  rooms.  The  Gimly 
gang  combined  together  to  make  a  bowl  of  very  deadly  pnnch  for 
the  sophs,  and  as  well  to  set  up  cigars  and  ice  cream.  The  ingre 
dients  were  suggested  by  Nevers,  whose  mild  and  benevolent  pur 
pose  was  to  repay  the  sophs  fort  heir  trouble  by  enabling  them  to 
get  very  drunk  on  mighty  little  liquid. 

He  meditated  a  punch  consisting  of  a  bottle  of  brandy,  a  bottle 
of  whisky,  a  bottle  of  gin,  and  a  bottle  of  champagne,  no  water, 
one  lemon,  and  a  cake  of  ice! 

"See  here,"  protested  Jack,  who  was  now  in  strict  training, 
"we  don't  want  all  of  Delta  Beta  Xi  and  Theta  Psi  roosting  with 
us  all  night!  Why,  they'll  never  be  able  to  get  out  in  the  street 
alive,  man  !  " 

Jack  was  pledged  to  Phi  Theta  Psi,  owing  to  an  "accident,"  as 
he  called  it.  The  chums  could  have  gone  either  way  they  chose. 
But  Bixby  had  got  him  to  pledge  his  way.  "It  wasn't  a  pledge 


SOPHOMORE   SOCIETY  INITIATIONS.  141 

exactly,"  said  Jack,  "but  I'm  not  going  to  ask  him  to  let  me  back 
out.  I'm  awfully  sorry.  Harry,  we'll  still  stick  together  sopho 
more  year." 

Harry,  who  was  feeding  Stamp  dog  biscuit,  looked  at  his  chum 
a  moment. 

"No,  I  want  to  room  across  the  way  with  David  Alum  and 
'Aunt  Sarah.'  " 

"You  know  Davy  and  she  are  now  already  well  on  in  senior 
year  studies  and  contemplate  entering  the  theological  school  and 
taking  up  Hebrew  next  year.  Why,  the  young  dig  is  all  brains 
and  horn  buttons.  He'll  be  a  somebody  some  day,  when  you  and 
I,  Harry,  are  merely  trying  to  live  within  our  income." 

"Oh,  I  know  better!  Valedictorians  always  use  themselves  up 
in  college  and  are  good  for  nothing  else  afterward.  I  am  very 
thankful  that  I'm  not  one  of  them." 

"No — ahem!  There  would  be  no  more  strolls  with  pretty  Ella 
Gerhart,  eh?" 

"Ella  is  a  good  girl." 

"I  saw  her  at  the  ball  game  last  Saturday  with  Brown;  she 
watched  you  pitch  as  a  cat  does  a  mouse.  She  seemed  so  proud  of 
you,  Harry.  Has  she  forgiven  you  for  parading  under  the  name 
of  Wilkins,  yet?"  Harry  reddened. 

"She  comes  out  there  very  often — with  her  sisters,  sometimes." 

"I  know.  Going  in,  Granniss  and  I  were  together.  We  met 
Ella.  I  introduced  him.  He  was  awfully  taken  with  her.  She's 
a  great  coquette.  She  saw  he  was  mashed  on  her,  and  she  used 
her  fine  eyes  with  great  effect.  Look  out,  Harry,  he'll  cut  you 
out!" 

"Granniss  is  such  a  great,  good  fellow  I  should  be  sorry;  he's 
so  in  earnest." 

Jack  went  to  the  window. 

"Then,  even  if  lam  Theta  Psi  and  you  Beta  Xi,  we'll  stick 
together,  eh  ?  " 

"Yes,  Jack." 

"And  you  still — you  still  love  me?" 

"Yes,  Jack.     I  love  you  still,"  replied  Harry  earnestly. 


142 


COLLEGE   DAYS. 


Out  of  the  purest  fondness  for  each  other,  the  liking  the  one  had 
learned  to  have  for  the  other's  good  qualities,  they  put  on  the 
gloves  and  sparred  a  couple  of  rounds.  They  were  pretty  evenly 
matched  and  were  quick  on  their  feet,  dodging,  feinting,  striking, 
and  retreating.  When  they  got  well  warmed  up  they  didn't  seem 
to  notice  how  much  noise  they  were  making.  Chairs  went  over, 
the  lamp  fell  with  a  crash— it  was  nothing.  At  it  they  went, 
hammer  and  tongs,  in  friendly  desire  to  make  the  other  "  quit " 
first.  There  came  a  knock  at  the  door,  but  they  paid  no  attention 
to  that.  The  knock  came  louder,  but  Jack  merely  called  "Come 
in,  if  you  dare,"  and  sailed  in  with  his  left,  catching  Harry  under 

the  chin,  when 

Holy  Moses! 

The  door  opened,  and  Professor  Shepard,  in  persona  non 
gratissima,  stood  there,  umbrella  in  hand,  thunderstruck. 

It  was  never  the  way  of  the  faculty  in  those  days  to  pass  over 
anything  lightly,  to  be  amused  at  the  dazed  attitudes  of  the  two 
boys,  to  pretend  that  it  was  all  proper  enough.  No,  indeed !  It 
was  de  rigueur  to  show  rigor.  Professor  Shepard  secretly  was 
enjoying  the  spectacle  immensely,  but  his  outward  manner  was 
all  censorious  in  a  high  degree.  He  frowned,  and  turned  to  Mrs. 
Gimly,  who  was  standing  behind  him. 

"She's  been  to  see  him  at  last!"  said  Jack,  and  he  hurriedly 
slipped  off  his  boxing  gloves. 

"This  is  study  hour,"  observed  Professor  Shepard  grimly,  in 
the  doorway.  "I  was  passing  and  I  thought  I  heard  a  noise;  it 
sounded  like  a  thrashing  machine — like  two  thrashing  machines. 
Rives  and  your  roommate,  Chestleton,  must  report  to  me  at  my 
study — you  know  where  my  house  is — next  Thursday,  at  6  P.  M. 
I  will  see  what  can  be  done — er — come  prepared  to  take  tea  and 
spend  the  evening — er — er." 

With  that  Professor  Shepard  hastily  departed.  They  thought 
they  heard  him  chuckling  as  he  went  downstairs. 

Jack  sank  back  on  a  chair.  "Well,  you  may  knock  me  down 
with  a  feather!  "  he  laughed. 

Mrs.  Gimly  came  running  up  again  as  soon  as  the  kindly  old 


SOPHOMORE   SOCIETY  INITIATIONS.  143 

professor  had  gone.  "Now  don't  go  for  to  lay  no  blame  on  me," 
she  said  anxiously.  "I  didn't  fetch  him  in,  though  the  good  Lord 
knows  I  has  occasions.  No,  I  don't  mind  your  thumpin'  now. 
The  long  vacatin's  soon  a-comin'  an'  I  won't  hear  no  sound  then 
— and  it'll  be  lonely  for  the  poor  widder  and  her  orphing  child. 
An'  if  he  expels  you  both  you  can't  say  as  I  done  it,  Mr.  Rives  or 


THE    DOOH   OPENED,    AND   PKOEESSOK   SHEl'AHD   STOOD   TIIEUE. 


I44  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Mr.  Chestleton,  for,  as  Samanthy  says,  you've  acted  as  gentlemen 
should,  payin'  your  way  like  honest  young  gentlemen,  an'  I  hamt 
had  no  reason  to  find  fault  with  you  ever." 

This  was  a  long  speech  for  Mrs.  Gimly,  and  Harry,  knowing  she 
feared  exposure  as  to  her  methods  of  extorting  money  from  her 
lodgers,  immediately  put  on  a  long  face. 

"We  are  summoned  to  Professor  Shepard's  study  next  Thurs 
day,"  he  said,  "and  he'll  ask  us,  and  we'll  have  to  tell  everything." 
"Oh,   don't   be   the   ruin  of  a  poor  widder   and   a   fatherless 
orphing !     Don't  tell  Professor  Shepard !  " 

"What  do  you  think,  about  what  do  you  judge,  we  ought  to  be 
paid  for  our  silence;  eh,  Harry?" 

Jack  put  his  boxing  gloves  on  the  nail  over  the  mantel  where 
they  belonged,  and  turnsd  to  conceal  his  laughter. 

"I  should  judge  it  was  worth  about  ten  dollars,"  said  Harry 
soberly. 

"Oh,  gentlemen,  gentlemen,  I  haven't  the  money!  I'm  a  poor 
lone  widder  as  keeps  boarders,  though  it's  a  hard  life  an'  full  of 
thumpin's  overhead  and  noise,  except  when  ye  are  at  recitation  or 
asleep  mostly." 

"  In  consideration,  Mrs.  Gimly,  of  your  being  a  '  widder,'  and  in 
consideration  of  Samanthy,  we  will  remit  the  ten  dollars  on  your 
agreement,  no  matter  10 h at  we  do,  never  to  go  and  tell  Professor 
Shepard." 

"Indeed  I  will  not.     Indeed,  sir "   Mrs.  Gimly  rose.     They 

each  shook  her  hand  by  way  of  league  and  covenant,  and  she  went 
downstairs  a  sadder  if  not  a  wiser  woman. 

So  it  was  with  feelings  somewhat  relieved  that  the  "  Gimly 
gang "  prepared  to  receive  their  sophomore  friends  on  "election 
night,"  the  day  following.  Mrs.  Gimly  did  not  come  up  to  ask 
for  even  a  reasonable  degree  of  quiet.  She  it  was  who  now  feared 
Professor  Shepard's  awful  discipline  !  The  tables  were  turned,  and 
Nevers  proceeded  to  compound  his  fearful  "  combination  "  punch 
to  bring  confusion  upon  the  hated  sophomores,  without  a  qualm. 
It  was  the  custom  at  that  time  for  Beta  Xi  and  Theta  Psi,  with 
their  soph  thirty,  headed  by  a  big  headlight  lantern  (Diogenes 


SOPHOMORE    SOCIETY  I  NUTATIONS.  145 

searching  for  an  honest  man  !)  to  search  out  the  freshmen,  as  it 
were,  and  finding  them  (with  all  preparations  and  a  bowl  of  punch, 
cigars,  or  a  basket  of  champagne  in  readiness)  "  at  their  studies," 
to  confer  upon  them  the  glorious  election  to  the  soph  societies. 

As  the  classes  averaged  then  about  125,  and  not  more  than  40 
were  elected  in  each  society — about  the  same  number  that  entered 
Phi  U  and  D.  K.  E.  in  junior  year — it  was  not  considered  in 
college  a  very  great  privilege  to  get  in,  but  an  outrage  to  be  kept 
out  of  a  sophomore  or  junior  society. 

Almost  all  the  freshmen  congregated  in  Harry's  large  room, 
awaiting  the  onset.  Nevers  had  had  some  assistance  in  concocting 
his  punch,  and  one  or  two  freshmen  were  already  very  talkative. 
A  large  china  bowl,  with  a  cake  of  ice  in  it,  occupied  the  table  in 
the  center  of  the  room.  On  closer  observation  the  cake  of  ice  was 
seen  to  be  floating  in  a  dark  amber  colored  liquid.  As  the  punch 
gave  out  Nevers  and  Steele  stood  ready  to  replenish  it  out  of  a  tin 
canister.  It  meant  very  little  to  Harry  and  Jack,  who  were  in 
training.  Each  tasted  a  little  of  the  stuff,  and  Jack  suggested  an 
addition  of  a  bottle  of  Jamaica  ginger. 

Then,  as  always  with  the  modern  student  of  an  American  college, 
where  two  or  three  are  gathered,  the  talk  fell  upon  the  prospects  in 
baseball  and  boating.  Everyone  in  the  room  said  it  was  a  shame 
that  Harry  was  not  allowed  to  pitch  on  the  'varsity  as  a  regular 
thing.  Jim  Danforth,  who,  amid  all  the  crowd  and  the  smoke,  was 
poring  (poor  fellow,  he  worked  hard  enough  to  stay  in)  over  a 
Jevons  "Logic"  in  one  corner,  called  out  : 

"If  he  pitches  I'm  going  to  catch,  and  where  would  Harvard 
be?" 

"  Seven  runs  ahead  on  the  last  half  of  the  ninth  !  "  laughed  Jack. 

Dan  returned  to  his  "  Loo-ic." 

O 

Presently   they  heard    in    the  distance — it   was   now  about  ten 

o'clock  : 

Phi  Thcta  Psi  !    Caw  !    Caw  ! 
And  oh!  Phi  Theta  Psi  ! 

Most  glorious  band 

In  all  our  land 
Is,  oh  !    Phi  Theta  Psi  ' 


J46  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

How  the  fine  song  reverberated  up  the  empty  street  under  the 
elms  !  What  a  thrill  it  brought  to  our  freshmen,  waiting  behind 
their  redoubts  of  punch  and  cigars  ! 

Then  up  the  street  in  the  opposite  direction  came  another  chorus  : 

And  Theta  Psi  had  better  hence, 

Do  da,  do  da  ; 
For  Beta  Xi  has  got  the  fence, 

Do  da,  do  da  day  ! 
Oh,  we're  bound  to  sing  all  night, 

We're  bound  to  sing  all  day, 
The  glories  of  our  Beta  Xi , 

Forever  and  for  aye  ! 

Then  the  tramp,  tramp  of  many  heavy  feet.  Thornton  and  Jack 
looked  out,  and  then  everyone  was  pell-mell  at  the  windows. 
They  saw  two  great  locomotive  lamps  approaching. 

"  Here  they  come,  boys  !  "  cried  Thornton,  "  both  singing — and 
there  ought  to  be  a  fight,  but  there  won't,  because  rows  are  only 
between  classes." 

They  heard  cries  of  "  Put  out  that  light,  freshie  !"  and  presently 
botli  societies  were  gathered  on  the  sidewalk  before  the  Gimly 
house. 

The  leaders  and  some  of  the  others  were  in  fantastic  outlandish 
costumes,  high-pointed  white  hats  and  masquerading  in  long  coats 
and  knee-breeches.  The  red-haired  Theta  Psi  leader  was  in  a  long 
duster,  and  seemed  to  tower  high  above  all  the  rest.  Each  society 
was  singing  its  song  at  the  top  of  its  lungs  and  trying  to  smother  the 
other.  There  was,  however,  no  scuffling  among  them,  and  only  a 
friendly  rivalry.  But  night  was  made  hideous  enough  with  the 
combined  efforts  and  stentorian  lungs  of  the  valiant  sophomores. 

Presently  the  committees  of  each  society  ran  up,  singled  out 
their  freshmen,  gave  them  their  election  in  as  formal  a  manner  as 
possible  and  a  hearty  grasp 'of  the  hand.  Then  the  fun  began. 
The  doors  were  opened  and  about  sixty  men  came  tumbling 
upstairs.  They  had  already  visited  several  freshmen  dens  and 
were  in  a  pretty  fairly  "  happy  "  condition. 


SOPHOMORE    SOCIETY  INITIATIONS.  14? 

Coles  and  Nevers  ladled  out  the  puncli  in  tin  cups  and  goblets, 
and  the  innocent  "  sophies,"  and  not  a  few  juniors,  began  to  feel 
very  happy.  "They  hugged  each  other,  hugged  freshmen,  and 
swarmed  all  over  the  house.  When  Thornton  went  up  to  bed  that 
night  he  found  Simpkins,  a  junior,  asleep  on  his  bed.  When  awak 
ened  he  begged  that  Thornton  would  not  write  a  letter  home  about 
it,  and  Thornton  made  him  very  unhappy  by  telling  him  that  the 
faculty  had  concluded  to  expel  him  instanter.  The  effect  of  the 
punch  was  to  first  render  them  foolish  and  then  completely  idiotic. 
There  ceased  to  be  any  class  distinctions — freshmen  hugged  and 
danced  with  juniors  and  shouted  for  Beta  Xi  and  Theta  Psi  with 
the  utmost  desire  to  do  the  square  thing  by  each.  When  things 
were  very  mellow  with  Beta  Xi  and  the  first  supply  of  the  Gimly 
punch  was  getting  in  its  deadly  work,  B^  K.  E.'s  crowd  came 
booming  and  singing  up  the  street.  Nevers  renewed  his  punch 
bowl  and  made  ready  for  B^K.  E.'s  attack  on  it.  On  they  came,  their : 
leader  dressed  up  in  a  high  white  hat,  a  long  veil,  and  linen  duster. 
They  had  captured  a  bass  drum  somewhere  and  had  no  hesitation 
in  beating  the  terrible  thing  right  into  the  house  and  up  the  stairs. 
Mrs.  Gimly's  feeble  protest  could  be  heard  above  the  din,  "  Gentle 
men — please  less  noise  !  "  Such  was  student  life,  dear  mothers  and 
sisters,  and  we  would  draw  a  veil  over  the  jovial  scene  in  Harry's 
room,  and  shed  a  gentle  tear  ! 

When  Jack  thought  they  had  had  enough  of  it  he  started  the 
cry  of  "  Faculty  !  faculty!  "  but  not  with  the  result  that  he  expected, 
for  the  sophs,  and  juniors  who  were  old  hands  at  the  game,  dove, 
most  of  them,  into  the  bedrooms  and  under  the  bed.  Jack's  little 
6x10  room  must  have  held  fully  twenty  fellows,  packed  sideways, 
lengthwise,  under  the  bed  and  on  it.  Harry's  room  was  made  a 
retreat  for  as  many  more.  A  few  jumped  out  of  the  second  story 
windows  upon  the  soft  flower  beds  of  Samanthy's  geraniums. 
Gradually  order  was  restored  out  of  chaos,  and  the  two  rival 
societies — half  the  members  were  already  hors  de  combat — pro 
ceeded  in  some  sort  of  array  to  give  out  further  elections  down  the 
street. 

High  up  in  her  window,  looking  out   upon   the  noise  and  confu- 


148  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

sion,  sat  "Aunt  Sarah  "  with  her  nephew,  David  Alum.  The  two 
societies  passed  their  house  without  a  recognition.  There  may  have 
been  a  secret  longing  on  the  part  of  Miss  Alum  to  join  in  the 
fray  and  be  "  one  of  the  boys,"  but  David  looked  down  upon  it  all 
with  supreme  contempt.  "  I  cannot  understand  their  paucity  of 
intellect.  They  have  so  little  brains  that  they  are  willing  to  let 
them  be  'stolen'  away  without  a  protest.  Oh,  \\;hy  will  students 
forget  their  privileges  in  this  great  institution  and  devote  their 
valuable  time  to  these  tomfooleries?" 

"  I  suppose  it's  a  part  of  college  life,  and  always  has  been." 

"  Then  in  the  New  Yale,  that  is  to  be,  I  hope  the  custom  of  these 
annual  sprees  will  be  abolished." 

"  I  fear  the  new  Yale  will  be  different,"  sighed  Aunt  Sarah,  "  but 
boys  will  always  be  boys.  David,  I — I  wish  }'ou  were  given  an 
election.  I — I  think  it's  a  perfect  shame.  David,  I  could  cry." 

"  I  am  supremely  indifferent.  But  I  will  let  them  hear  from  me 
yet.  I  intend  to  take  every  first-class  honor  at  Yale  from  this  time 
forth  !  "  " 

"  Davy,  Davy,  don't  be  too  sure  !  Sometimes  I  wish  that  you 
would  smoke." 

"  Smoke  ?  Waste  my  time  over  tobacco  and  cigars  ?  My,  aunt ! 
what  can  you  be  thinking  of  ?  I  have  a  future  and  a  name  to 
make.  You  know  we  are  poor.  Would  you  have  me  like  these 
fellows  howling  like  dogs  along  the  street  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  wish  you  had  more  knowledge  of  the  world." 

"  I  live  in  the  ancient  world." 

"  But  we  are  with  the  present." 

"I'm  not.  I  glory  in  the  fact  that  I  am  a  contemporary  of 
Plato.  That  is  the  era  when  I  would  have  lived  !  Ah,  those 
glorious  days  !  " 

:'  Yes.     They  drank  in  those  days,  too." 

David  moved  away  a  little. 

"  Those  feasts  of  Venus,  David  !  " 

David  colored.  "Very  natural  times  of  festivity.  Times  of 
mirth.  They  were  not  gross.  Look  out  and  hear  them  sinq-  \ 
Beta  Xi  and  Theta  Psi,  foolish  societies  for  foolish  boys  to  waste 


SOPHOMORE    SOCIETY  INITIATIONS. 


149 


their  foolish  time.  The  faculty  ought  to  abolish  all  this  sort  of 
thing.  It's  absurd,  it's  costly,  it's — it's — 

A  knock  at  the  door.  Enter  a  sophomore,  not  intoxicated,  who 
with  a  businesslike  dispatch  says  : 

"  Mr.  Alum,  I  offer  you  an  election  to  Delta  Beta  Xi.  Do  you 
accept  ?  " 

Aunt  Sarah  jumped  to  her  feet.  "  Yes  !  "  she  cried,  delighted, 
before  David  could  get  the  words  out  of  his  mouth.  "  Certainly  he 
will." 

"  I'm  sorry  an  election  cannot  be  offered  to  you,  Miss  Alum," 
said  the  sophomore  dryly.  "Then  I  understand  your  nephew 
accepts?  Beta  Xi  always  has  the  valedictorian." 

"  Well,"  said  David,  flattered  by  the  election.  "  I— I  think  it's 
very  foolish,  but  I  accept  gladly  !  " 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


TEA  AT  PROFESSOR  SHEPARD7S. 

TEA  at  Professor  Shepard's!  An  honor  in 
deed!  Long  before  six  o'clock  arrived  that 
day  Harry  stood  before  his  glass  tying  and 
retying  his  scarf,  and  troubled  with  the 
problem  whether  he  should  wear  a  high 
collar  or  a  turn  down.  Jack,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  off  with  his  crew  on  the  harbor 
and  ought  to  have  been  back  by  this.  Here 
it  was  a  quarter  of  six,  and  Professor 
Shepard,  like  all  the  old  professors  who  felt 
their  daily  life  to  be  an  exemplar  for  student 
imitation,  was  most  exceeding  "prompt"  always.  On  the  stroke 
of  six  Harry  well  knew  that  Professor  Shepard  would  be  seated 
at  his  supper  table,  surrounded  by  his  numerous  boys,  asking  the 
blessing.  He  was  all  ready  now,  brushed  and  feeling  very  fine  in 
his  new  light  gray  summer  suit.  He  leaned  out  of  the  window. 
The  beautiful  elms  of  York  Street  drooped  gracefully  over  an 
approaching  horse  car,  out  of  which  Jack  leaped,  clad  in  his  boat 
ing  blazer,  cap,  and  blue  shirt. 

"Hurry  up,  Jack!     I've  got  your  togs  all  ready." 
Jack  looked  up,  smiled,  and  dove  into  Mrs.  Gimly's  front  door 
and  almost  knocked  that  good  lady  flat  against  the  wall. 

"Oh,  Mr.   Rives,  you  aint  a-goin'  to  tell  Professor  Shepard 
about  them  presents  to  me?  " 

Poor  woman !     She  had  hardly  slept  all  night  by  reason  of  her 
fears.     She  actually  trembled  before  him. 

"No,"  said  Jack.     "But  it's  understood  that  you  won't  say  any 
thing  about  us  in  future,  eh?  " 


TEA    AT  PROFESSOR    SHEPARD' S.  151 

"A  quieter  set  of  young  fresh  gentlemen  never  had  rooms  in  my 
house,  Mr.  Rives.  Oh,  you  never  make  no  noise  that  me  and 
Samanthy  ever  notices,  and  aint  a  circumstance  to  Mr.  Caswell 
an'  Mr.  Holland  a  year  ago.  No,  sir,  Mr.  Rives." 

Jack  sent  Harry  on  ahead  to  "hold  the  supper  for  him,"  as  he 
expressed  it,  and  followed  ten  minutes  later,  apologizing  to  Pro 
fessor  Shepard  and  his  wife  for  his  tardiness.  The  old  white 
house  with  its  tall  Grecian  portico  and  its  mathematically  arranged 
flower  beds  bordered  with  box  in  front — can  any  old  Yale  man 
forget  the  quaint  old  New  England  home,  with  the  great  drooping 
elms  on  either  side  of  the  brick  walk?  The  family  of  ruddy  sons, 
half  of  whom  were  at  the  time  progressing  in  the  various  classes 
through  the  academic  department,  was  enlivened  by  the  presence 
of  a  Miss  Walker,  of  whom  the  boys  had  often  heard  vaguely 
as  being  considered  a  great  flirt,  and  as  being  very  beautiful. 
Indeed,  Uncle  Dick  Lyman  had  spoken  of  her  as  being  a  great  flirt 
in  his  day,  and  wondering  if  she  was  married  yet. 

Miss  Walker  was  a  capital  talker,  and  she  seemed  to  know  better 
than  anyone  everything  that  went  on  in  college  affairs. 

"You  remember,  Miss  Walker,  Dingier  of  '6:5?"  asked  the  pro 
fessor,  stirring  his  tea  and  taking  a  bite  of  the  thin,  the  very  thin, 
bread  and  butter. 

"Dingley?     Oh,  yes,  indeed." 

Miss  Walker  had  been  engaged  to  Dingley,  though  doubtless 
Professor  Shepard  had  forgotten  it,  and  no  one  else  at  the  table 
was  familiar  with  the  circumstance. 

"Do  you  know  what  Dingley  is  doing  now?"  asked  the  pro 
fessor. 

Miss  Walker  pretended  to  think  the  remark  was  not  addressed 
to  her. 

"Do  you  know  Dingley  is  going  to  be  the  next  United  States 
Senator  from  Colorado?"  continued  the  professor. 

Visions,  swift  as  light,  entered  her  brain.  She  thought  once  she 
had  really, loved  Dingley  of  'OH.  But  then  came  Blandiard  of  '07, 
and  Thomaston  of  '08,  and  she  thought  she  loved  them,  too,  at  the 
time. 


152  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

But  now  strangely  there  came  over  her  the  thought  of  what  her 
career  might  have  been  with  Dingley.  It  would  have  been  fine  to 
shine  in  Washington  society  as  "Mrs.  Senator  Dingley."  Swift 
visions  (poor  soul!)  came  to  her  before  she  spoke  of  the  way  she 
parted  from  Dingley.  He  had  gone  to  the  war,  and  before  he  re 
turned  she  was  engaged  to  Frank  Blanchard  of  '67.  Dingley, 
broken  hearted,  went  West,  in  order  to  grow  up  with  the  country. 
He  had  never  married.  The  professor,  with  the  forgetfulness  of 
the  niceties  common  to  elderly  men,  went  on  harping  about  Dingley 
and  praising  him  to  the  skies,  as  college  professors  always  do  when 
an  alumnus  succeeds  in  life  and  they  wish  to  show  their  fatherly 
interest  in  him. 

"Why,  Dingley  was  a  sort  of  numskull  in  college,"  he  said, 
"and  we  never  thought  he  would  ever  amount  to  anything.  It 
makes  me  feel  unsafe  in  predicting  much  about  college  boys. 
There  hasn't  been  a  valedictorian  who  has  done  very  much;  but 
there  have  been  many  surprises  among  the  low -stand  men.  They 
seem  to  wake  up  later  in  life.  Their  brains  are  not  developed  in 
college.  There's  Dr.  Blaisted — a  perfect  little  fool  in  college, 
getting  into  scrapes  all  the  while  and  being  dropped  once  for  low 
stand — he  is  to-day  at  the  head  of  his  profession  in  New  York; 
think  of  it,  a  perfect  little  fool !  " 

"  Would  you  advise  a  man  in  college  to  be  rather  foolish  in 
order  to  amount  to  something  afterward?"  asked  Harry,  with  a 
jocular  intention. 

"No!  You  boys  never  need  try  to  make  fools  of  yourselves!" 
At  which  all  at  the  table  laughed. 

O 

"In  your  experience  of  students,  Miss  Walker— [how  she  hated 
him  for  that  word!]— don't  you  think  that  nature  does  that  for 
them?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  Men  in  college  seem  very  much  alike 
to  me.  I  don't  think  I  distinguish  the  wise  from  the  foolish 
very  much— and  if  I  do  I  prefer  the  fools." 

"And  so  that's  the  reason  for  your  telling  me  you  like  fresh 
men,"  laughed  Jack. 

She  gave  him  a  quick,  motherly  little  glance.     Jack  was  hand- 


TEA    AT  PROFESSOR    SHEPARD'S.  153 

somely  tanned,  and  his  eyes  were  as  clear  and  bright  as  months  of 
training  could  make  them.  He  had  felt  the  charm  of  Miss 
Walker's  manner  at  once  (she  knew  what  the  college  genus  liked, 
and  it  had  been  her  life  study),  and  his  admiration  betrayed  itself 
in  his  glance.  "I  must  say  I  dislike  the  solemn,  intense  young 
man,"  she  continued — "the  young  man  with  what  are  called  'high 
hopes  and  high  ambitions.'  He  is  to  me  very  much  of  a  bore. 
He  gets  these  'high  ambitions'  off  at  you  as  if  they  were  some 
thing  new  and  original.  Ten  to  one,  if  he  aspires  very  much  in 
college,  he  ends  by  the  flattest  kind  of  a  failure  in  life.  I  believe 
things  go  by  opposites.  The  men  who  are  always  attitudinizing 
in  college  and  talking  about  their  future  'careers,'  and  who  are 
solemn  and  struggle  and  all  that,  are  very  apt  to  get  too  greatly 
discouraged  later  on.  I  would  tell  a  college  man  to  enjoy  the  college 
life  to  its  utmost,  in  spite  of  all  the  faculty  can  do  to  prevent  him!" 

This  was  a  dig  at  the  professor,  and  he  replied,  with  a  laugh: 
"]VIiss  Walker!  You're  a  pessimist,  a  cynic,  and  an  enemy  of  good 
conduct !  " 

"I  am  not!"  she  replied.  "But  if  I  went  through  college  to 
day  I  would  have  a  good  time  and  make  warm  friends,  and  I 
would  snap  my  fingers  at  the  faculty!  " 

"Hear!  hear!"  cried  the  professor's  sons,  laughing  also. 

The  professor  said:  "Why  all  this  cry  against  the  faculty? 
Sometimes  I  pick  up  the  Yale  Lit.  and  read  the  dreadfully  'wise' 
fulminations  and  critiques  directed  against  the  faculty  by  students 
who  imagine  they  know  better  than  we  do  how  to  run  the  old  col 
lege.  It  makes  me  positively  amused.  They  accuse  us  of  every 
known  crime,  but  particularly  of  being  behind  the  age  and  of  having 
backwoods,  up-country  Congregational  clergymen  as  our  trustees. 
One  would  think  that  old  Yale  wasn't  good  enough  for  the  present 
generation — of  vipers,"  he  added  laughingly.  "Do  we  want  to 
become  a  mere  business  institution  without  a  moral  character, 
without  a  soul,  without  a  high  purpose  to  develop  character  as 
well  as  intelligence?" 

"Oh,  I  think  it's  your  duty  to  let  character  alone,"  said  the 
eldest  son.  "The  German  universities  do." 


154  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"Well,  thank  God,  we  are  not  going  to  pattern  after  Gottingen 
and  Berlin!  Just  see  the  freedom  we  give  to  you  students.  You 
can  go  and  come  as  you  please,  provided  you  go  to  chapel  and 
attend  recitations;  we  give  you  absolute  freedom,  and  how  do  you 
behave?  You  build  bonfires  on  the  stone  porch  of  the  chapel,  you 
tear  up  the  fence,  whole  sections  at  a  time,  you  break  into  tutors' 
rooms  and  daub  them  all  over  with  red  paint!  A  nice  set  of  young 
scoundrels  you  students  are  and  always  have  been !"  he  laughed. 
"And  what  could  we  do  with  you,  if  it  were  not  for  our  summary 
discipline  once  in  a  while?  It's  all  very  well  to  talk  about  not 
having  anything  to  do. with  character  or  conduct  and  devoting  our 
time  to  your  boy  brains,  as  the  Germans  do.  But  what  would 
become  of  us  if  we  did?  In  three  weeks  there  would  not  be  a 
brick  left  in  the  chapel.  You'd  raze  it  to  the  ground.  Long 
experience  has  taught  me  to  distrust  you.  At  this  very  moment 
Jack  Rives  here  is  planning  to  steal  the  college  Bible  out  of  the 
pulpit,  just  as  his  father  did  before  him! " 

"Did  he?  Oh,  tell  us  about  it!  "  cried  Jack  eagerly.  He  was 
only  too  glad  to  have  what  he  called  a  "pointer"  on  his  dad. 

"We  were  classmates  back  in  '41,"  said  Professor  Shepard, 
helping  himself  to  a  third  cup  of  tea,  which  his  beaming  but  silent 
wife  in  her  pretty  lace  cap  had  handed  him  from  behind  her  ram 
part  of  tea  things,  "and  for  out-and-out  rascals  Tom  Rives  was— 
well,  he  was  almost  as  bad  as  I  myself!  " 

"Oh,  professor!"  protested  his  wife,  who  was  always  horrified 
at  these  college  reminiscences,  which  were  the  delight  of  her  hus 
band  to  tell. 

"At  that  time  we  had  chapel  twice  a  day,  and  prayers  were  four 
times  as  long  as  they  are  now.  Then  we  had  two  sessions  of 
church  on  Sunday,  besides  chapel,  all  of  which  were  compulsory, 
in  addition  to  a  prayer  meeting  in  the  evening,  which,  while  not 
exactly  compulsory,  was  understood  to  be  incumbent  on  all  to 
attend.  Ambitious  young  seniors  used  sometimes  to  make  use  of 
these  prayer  meetings  to  cultivate  extemporaneous  oratory,  I  regret 
to  say,  and  they  used  to  introduce  all  sorts  of  topics,  I  Remember 
—even  politics  and  international  questions. 


TEA    AT  PROFESSOR   SHEPARD'S.  155 

"Well,  Tom  Rives  got  it  into  his  head  one  Sunday  that  there  was 
too  much  church  going  in  the  college.  lie  thought  that  the 
faculty  ought  to  be  contented  with  one  prayer  and  one  church  on 
Sunday,  just  as  you  young  men  think  now  there  ought  to  be  no 
prayers  and  no  church  on  Sunday.  You  see  we  have  had  'Young 
Yale'  in  the  past  to  contend  with,  just  as  we  have  them  now  ;  if 
you  give  them  an  inch  they  will  take  an  ell.  Your  father  got  it 
into  his  head  that  if  he  could  give  the  faculty  a  hint — a  strong 
hint — about  the  matter  it  might  have  some  effect.  So  he  set  his 
wits  to  work.  Now,  at  that  time  good  old  President  Day  used  to 
preach  about  an  hour  and  a  half  in  the  morning  and  an  hour  in  the 
afternoon.  A  great  many  people  attended  service  in  the  morning, 
and  it  was  at  that  time  that  the  choir  did  their  best,  and  made  the 
old  chapel  ring  writh  their  hallelujah  anthems. 

"Those  who  remember  President  Day's  sermons — and  those  of  us 
are  getting  few  who  do — remember  very  well  how  fond  he  was  of 
bringing  in  the  Angel  Gabriel  and  the  last  trump  toward  the  end  of 
his  sermon.  He  worked  in  Gabriel  and  his  trump  as  a  climax,  and 
pictured  to  our  terrified  ears  the  awful  day — "dies  irce,  dies  ilia, 
solvet  sceclum  in  fan  ilia.'1  "*  Few  of  his  great  efforts  but  contained 
a  description  of  Gabriel.  Tom  Rives  knew  very  well  that  he  could 
count  on  the  good  old  man's  bringing  it  in  somewhere  in  his 
sermon,  and  especially  the  sermon  just  before  closing  college  for  the 
then  three  or  four  weeks'  vacation,  when  the  occasion  was  very 
solemnly  taken  advantage  of  to  warn  departing  students  of  the 
perils  of  the  outside  world. 

"I  well  remember  that  Sunday.  It  was  one  of  those  mild,  warm 
December  days  when  the  fires  in  the  great  stoves  which  used  to 
stand  at  either  end  of  the  chapel  made  the  interior  so  warm  that 
they  opened  several  windows  to  the  south  to  let  in  the  air.  Now, 
as  you  well  know,  North  ]\Iiddle  stands  in  the  old  brick  row  just 
south  of  the  chapel.  Tom  Rives  was  then  in  the  choir.  The  pul 
pit  was  very  high  in  the  old  chapel  and  en  me  nearly  up  to  the 
choir  loft  at  the  other  end  of  the  church.  Well,  the  sermon 
neared  its  end,  and  we  were  all  expecting  the  Angel  Gabriel  to 
appear  as  usual  with  his  trump,  when,  just  as  President  Day — he 


156  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

had  a  terrible  voice,  it  rings  in  my  ears  to  this  day — reached  his 
climax  and  shouted  out,  'Suppose  the  Angel  Gabriel  should  appear 
now.  Now  would  he  sound  his  last  trump  to  a  dozing,  sleeping 
audience! '  Well,  just  at  that  point,  by  all  that  is  true,  the  angel 
did  appear!  Yes,  I  remember  rubbing  my  eyes,  it  was  so  sudden, 
and  then  an  involuntary  laugh  went  through  the  five  hundred 
students  and  everyone  in  church.  About  midway  between  pulpit 
and  choir  hung  a  full-blown  angel  marked  'Gabriel'  holding  a 
card  which  said  on  one  side,  'This  is  my  last  trump,'  and  on  the 
other,  'There  will  be  no  more  chapel  now!' 

"Tom  had  given  the  signal  to  his  confederate  from  inside  and 
the  effigy  of  Gabriel  had  been  swiftly  pulled  in  through  the  open 
window  on  a  fish  line  which  ran  over  a  pulley  fastened  in  the 
opposite  pillar  of  the  gallery.  The  effect  was  very  startling.  A 
lady — the  mother  of  a  boy  in  college,  who  had  come  on  to  visit  him 
— shrieked  out,  'Save  me,  save  me !'  and  fainted  dead  away.  They 
couldn't  reach  the  line  to  cut  the  thing  down  and  there  it  swung, 
facing  President  Day — a  great  red  face,  goggle  eyes,  and  a  yellow 
wig — the  worst-looking  angel  you  ever  conceived  of.  Your  father 
sat  up  there  in  the  gallery  as  innocent  as  any  lamb.  You  see,  his 
confederate — a  fellow  who  pretended  to  be  sick  that  Sunday — 
worked  the  line  from  outside  when  he  gave  the  signal.  The 
faculty  were  terribly  indignant.  They  examined  every  man  in  the 
two  lower  classes,  but  Tom  was  never  found  out.  Ah,  your 
father,  Mr.  Rives,  was  a  very  great  rascal,  sir,  in  college — as  he 
was  a  great  fighter  afterward  in  the  war.  I  shall  never  forget  that 
Angel  Gabriel  and  his  last  trump  card.  The  whole  thing  came  in 
so  pat.  The  idea  was  that  there  would  be  at  least  one  pleasant 
feature  connected  with  Gabriel's  coming— no  more  chapel!" 

The  professor  laughed  heartily  over  this  reminiscence,  and  all 
rose  and  went  out  on  the  portico  beneath  the  high  white  pillars. 

"Miss  Walker,  you  must  remember  a  great  many  of  those  old- 
time  jokes?" 

But  Miss  Walker,  on  Jack's  arm,  had  swept  with  a  graceful 
motion  toward  the  farther  end  of  the  piazza  and  was  out  of 
hearing. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


THE     I5ASEI5ALL     MATCH. 

DON'T  see  how  you  dared  sit  off  there  so  long 
alone  with  Miss  Walker,"  said  Harry,  as  they 
walked  home  from  Professor  Shepard's  around 
by  the  fence  and  the  colleges  half  an  hour  or  so 
later. 

"  Why,  how  old  do  you  suppose  she  is  ?  " 
"About  twenty-nine." 

"No ;  only  twenty-five,  that's  not  very  old.  Harry,  I  never  knew 
any  girl  seem  to  understand  a  fellow  as  she  does.  I  think  she's 
one  of  the  finest  women  I  ever  met." 

Jack  spoke  with  a  serious  air,  and  Harry  concurred  with  him 
also  seriously. 

"Of  course  I  haven't  met  many  yet,"  pursued  Jack.  "But  Miss 
Walker,  I  wish  I  knew  what  her  first  name  Avas.  She  said  that 
there  was  something  about  me  so — so  different  from  other  college 
men." 

"It  must  have  been  your  sang-froid,  commonly  known  as 
cheek,"  said  Harry.  "  Few  men  have  it  in  such  quantity." 

"  Oh,  but  father  must  have  been  a  very  devil  ! "  and  Jack 
whistled  and  laughed,  then  whistled  again.  "I  asked  Miss  Walker 
if  she  knew  him  in  college  !  " 

"  What  a  break  !  you  put  your  foot  in  it !  " 

"She  rides  horseback.     I  wish  our  confounded  crew  was  not  in 
training.     She  is  coming  out  to  see  us  row." 
Harry  laughed  a  little. 

"  She  knew  Hetherington.  She  said  he  was  one  of  the  most 
famous  men  of  his  day.  lie  had  taken  the  Lit.  medal  and  the 
Deforest  medal,  and  was,  while  in  college,  famous  for  his  Greek 

157 


158  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

recitations.  She  gave  a  little  sigh  as  she  spoke  of  Hetherington." 
Jack  found  out  long  afterward  that  the  "  Greek  wonder  "  was  on 
her  numerous  list  of  rejected  suitors. 

Not  having  as  yet  any  fence  on  which  to  roost,  the  freshmen 
were  in  the  habit  of  gathering  in  front  of  the  gymnasium  on 
Library  Street.  Here,  on  their  way  home,  the  boys  found  a  number 
of  their  classmates  gathered  about  Jim  Danforth,  who,  as  soon  as 
he  saw  Harry  coming,  gave  a  great  shout  :  "  Hi — hi — hi — the 
'varsity  pitcher  !  "  and  ran  forward  and  grasped  his  hand. 

"  We've  got  it !  You're  to  pitch  in  Saturday's  game  ! "  he 
cried.  "  It's  all  fixed  ;  Harding  has  just  been  here  looking  for 
you,  old  man." 

"  Is  that  so  ?    Is  it  so— honest  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Harding  sent  for  Harry  next  day  after  morning  recitation, 
around  to  his  room  in  the  top  story,  north  entry,  of  Farnara  Hall. 
Harry  ran  up  the  circular  wooden  stairway  two  steps  at  a  time. 
Harding's  room  was  on  the  south  side  of  the  entry,  facing  the 
campus.  As  he  knocked  and  entered  the  'varsity  captain  was 
leaning  out  of  his  window,  talking  to  someone  on  the  ground 
below.  Harry  stood  a  moment,  waiting  for  him  to  turn  around. 
The  four  walls  of  the  room  were  covered  with  oars,  flags,  pictures 
of  famous  boxers,  and  old  baseballs,  gilded  and  hung  up  on  strings, 
with  the  names  of  the  various  nines  from  which  they  were  won 
painted  on  them  in  black  letters. 

Harry  gave  a  slight  cough,  as  he  found  that  he  himself  was  the 
topic  of  conversation.  Harding  turned  around. 

"  Oh,  Chestleton,  it's  you.  Sit  down.  I've  decided  to  let  you 
try  your  funny  business  on  Harvard.  They  think  someone  else  is 
going  to  pitch,  and  I  want  it  kept  quiet  that  there  are  any  serious 
thoughts  of  putting  you  in  the  box." 

"  Everyone  seems  to  know  it." 

"  Surprising  how  things  of  that  sort  go  all  through  college  in 
half  an  hour.  I've  wanted  you  all  along  ;  there  was  tremendous 
opposition.  But  I've  settled  it,  and  the  nine  themselves  favor  you. 
They'll  support  you  well.  Don't  feel  you're  not  among  friends. 


THE  BASEBALL   MATCH.  159 

That's  what  I've  tried  to  encourage  in  the  nine — a  friendly  feeling 
and  no  class  distinction  ;  and  I  don't  know  how  well  I've  succeeded. 
Nothing  breaks  a  man  up  so  in  a  close  game  as  to  feel  he's  being 
severely  criticised  all  the  while  by  the  infield.  It  spoils  his  play." 

At  this  period  in  Yale's  history  only  one  annual  game  of  base 
ball  took  place.  The  success  of  an  entire  year  might  turn  on  a 
throw-out  at  first.  It  made  the  game  doubly  exciting,  but  it 
made  the  nervous  tension  of  the  players  almost  too  great  to  bear. 
In  those  days  it  was  common  enough  for  either  nine  to  get  badly 
"  rattled  "  three  or  four  times  a  game. 

Presently  it  was  proposed  to  go  out  into  the  gymnasium  lot  and 
practice. 

"Curved"  pitching  had  been  spoken  of  in  the  newspapers 
several  times,  but  was  not  attempted  by  the  professional  baseball 
pitchers.  In  fact,  professionals  have  never  invented  any  especial 
feature  of  baseball  play. 

They  kept  the  plan  of  Harry's  being  sent  into  the  box  on  the 
"dead  quiet,"  as  the  slang  had  it,  and  Harding  prepared  the  dismal 
forebodings  of  defeat  with  which  the  Record  and  Courant  both 
teemed.  This  man's  finger  Avas  broken  ;  that  man  was  lame  ;  the 
whole  nine  was  crippled.  Harvard  would  win  "  hands  down." 
Probably  Yale's  succeeding  athletic  policy  of  decrying  her  teams 
was  first  instituted  by  Harding  with  a  view  of  making  Harvard 
over-confident,  and  of  getting  on  the  right  side  of  Dame  Fortune, 
who  is  said  to  be  easily  fooled  by  an  obsequious  humbleness. 
However  this  may  be,  it  succeeded  in  making  every  Yale  man  very 
discouraged. 

Harvard  stood  with  an  unbroken  record  for  five  years.  Archie 
Bush,  famous  still  in  the  memory  of  old  college  baseball  men,  was 
their  captain.  Their  infield  was  a  veritable  stone  wall.  They  had 
won  victories  from  several  professional  teams.  No  wonder  that,  if 
Yale  was  to  stake  everything  on  the  abilities  of  a  new  and  almost 
untried  pitcher,  the  chances  of  war  were  desperate  indeed  ! 

Friday  came.     Friday  night. 

Fretful,  and  feeling  rather  "  dragged,"  Harry  went  down  to  the 
post  office  after  supper,  hoping  for  a  letter  from  home  containing 


160  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

some  cheerful,  helpful  words  from  his  mother  or  sister.  They 
were  just  as  excited  over  the  game  at  home  as  he  was,  but  he 
found  no  letter  at  the  office  and  felt  a  little  angry  about  it.  He 
started  to  walk  back  to  the  colleges. 

"  Hello,  Harry  !  " 

It  was  Ella  Gerhart's  sweet,  vibrant  voice  that  called  to  him  on 
the  sidewalk. 

"  So  you're  going  to  pitch,  Harry  !     Isn't  it  grand  !  " 

Somehow  these  words  were  just  exactly  what  he  wanted — what 
he  needed  just  then.  "  I've  got  to  do  one  or  two  errands 
for  pa,"  she  said.  "He  wants  me  to  carry  him  home  a  great 
bottle  of  acid — he's  experimenting  all  the  time  over  his  electrical 
machines." 

"  I'll  help  you  carry  it,"  said  Harry.  He  wanted  to  hear  her 
talk  more  about  his  pitching  to-morrow. 

They  walked  along  together  down  the  busy,  crowded  street, 
meeting  many  students  on  their  way  to  and  from  the  post  office. 
Harry  noticed  many  inquiring  and  some  indignant  glances.  He 
suddenly  realized  that  he  now  was  a  "  notable  "  in  college,  and 
that  everyone  knew  him. 

"  Let's  go  down  a  side  street,"  he  said. 

"Why?"  she  asked  innocently.  lie  looked  at  her  a  moment, 
hesitating.  She  had  never  looked  so  pretty  to  him.  Her  eyes 
seemed  to  have  a  peculiar  sweetness  and  a  love  light  in  the  dusk 
of  evening. 

"Because,"  he  replied  desperately,  "  I've  got  something  I  want 
to  say." 

"  I'd  rather  not,"  she  said. 

But  they  kept  on  Church  Street  past  the  City  Hall,  walking 
slowly  side  by  side.  "  I  thought  everything  had  ended  between 
us,  Harry  ?"  she  said. 

"  Just  because  I  hadn't  been  to  see  you  for  two  weeks  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Oh,  you  silly  !     I've  been  too  busy  over  baseball  !  " 
"  Someone  else  has  been  to  see  me  !  " 
"  Who— not  Jack  ?  " 


THE   BASEBALL   MATCH.  161 

"  Oh,  no.  Guess  !  The  queerest  man  I  ever  knew — one  of  your 
class.  He's  dreadfully  in  earnest,  too." 

Harry  thought  for  a  moment.  "  It  can't  be  old  Grannis,  can 
it?" 

"  Yes  !  " 

Harry  whistled.     "  So  he's  my  rival  ?  " 

Ella  gave  a  pretty  little  conscious  laugh,  and  the  dark  fringe  of 
her  eyelids  fell  upon  her  cheek. 

"  He's  very  queer,  but  he's  good,  Harry  ;  he's  so  truthful.  I 
shouldn't  like  ever  to  tell  him  an  untruth." 

"Oh,  so,  you — so  you  are  beginning  to  fall  in  love  with  the  lone 
fisherman  !  " 

They  were  in.  the  shadow  of  a  huge  old  elm.  Ella  swiftly  threw 
her  arms  around  the  lad's  neck  and  kissed  him  passionately.  She 
made  no  other  response.  She  told  her  secret. 

Then  they  walked  along  together  by  the  green  in  the  sweet 
twilight  in  silence,  hand  in  hand.  Suddenly  she  said.  "  Good-by, 
Harry.  Good  luck,  auf  wie  der  schein — I'll  be  there  to-morrow!" 
and  she  flew  off  in  the  dusk. 

Harry  stood  looking  after  her  in  silence. 

"  Poor  Ella  ! ''  he  muttered.  "  By  Jove,  I  wish  old  Grannis 
would  marry  her!  " 

The  great  day  came,  freighted  with  the  hopes  and  fears  of  a  col 
lege  year.  Would  Harvard  be  vanquished  at  last  ?  No  one  knows 
how  much  the  happiness  of  college  life  depends  upon  these  annual 
contests.  No  event  in  after  years  stands  out  so  decisively. 
Everything — studies,  recitations,  stand,  college  politics — is  for 
gotten,  but  never  the  game.  At  this  time,  too,  but  one  game. 

Harry  jumped  out  of  bed  and,  for  luck,  blew  thrice  and  cut  his 
Bible  to  the  following  verse  at  the  right-hand  upper  column  : 
"  N'ow  the  height  thereof  was  eight  cubits,  and  the  width  thereof  ten 
cubits" 

He  closed  the  Bible  and  stood  meditating  a  moment.  Could 
the  dim  meaning  of  the  verse  portend  the  size  of  the  great  Archie 
Bush  as  he  would  walk  off  the  field  after  victory  ?  Finding  it  was 
only  six  o'clock  he  got  back  to  bed  again  for  another  nap.  Pres- 


1 62  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

ently  Ella  Gerhart  was  acting  as  umpire,  and  pitch  and  twirl  as  he 
would  the  balls  flew  anywhere  but  over  the  home-plate.  The 
Harvard  nine  came  on  the  field  clad  in  complete  armor.  They  had 
large  scoop  nets,  with  which  they  caught  the  balls  of  iron,  with 
which  thev  insisted  on  playing,  and  instead  of  a  pitcher  they  shot 
these  balls  out  of  a  cannon.  It  was  impossible  to  hit  them.  Poor 
Yale  protested,  but  protested  in  vain.  Ella,  as  umpire,  absolutely 
refused  to  listen  to  reason.  The  score  ran  up  to  2801  to  nothing, 
and  eveiy  Yale  man  on  the  ground  was  in  tears.  He  tried  to 
pitch,  but  his  arm  was  powerless  and  hung  by  his  side  like  a  pump 
handle.  From  this  maddening  dream  he  awoke  to  see  Jack  and 
Thornton  standing  over  him  at  his  bedside. 

"'Awake,  awake,  the  lark  at  heaven's  high  gate  sings!'" 
laughed  the  pleasant-natured  Thornton. 

"Thank  Heaven — it's  not  true — is  it?"  asked  Harry  drowsily. 
"  The  game  hasn't  been  played  yet — has  it  ?  and  Harvard  won  by 
2801  to  0?" 

"Yes— you  were  hit  by  a  ball  off  Archie  Bush's  bat  in  the 
eighth  inning,"  laughed  Jack,  "  and  you've  been  out  of  your  head 
for  a  week." 

Thornton  kept  close  to  Harry  all  that  morning.  Made  him  lie 
down  for  an  hour,  and  kept  out  the  freshmen. 

"  You  coddle  me  like  a  young  infant,"  said  Harry. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  listen  to  all  the  rumors  and  get  nervous, 
my  boy.  You'll  have  strain  enough.  I  want  you  to  go  on  the 
field  fresh." 

'Don't  fear— he'll  be  fresh  and  green  enough,"  laughed  Jack 
from  the  corner  where  he  was  feeding  Stamp.  "  How  is  your  voice 
to-day,  Stampy  ?  All  right  ?  " 

He  held  up  some  of  the  biscuit  out  of  the  dog's  reach,  and  he 
began  to  bark  :  «  Umpty-umph  !  umpty-umph  !  " 

That's  all  right,  old  man.     You   want   to   save  your  voice  for 

the  ninth  inning.     So  don't  overbavk  now.     Don't  you  think  you'd 

itter  he  down  now,  and  soak  your  head,  Stampy  ?     I  want  you 

)  be  perfectly  fresh  when  you  go  on  the  field." 

"  See  here,  freshman,  you're   letting   yourself   in   for  a  bi«-  lick- 


THE   BASEBALL   MATCH.  163 

it)g,"  growled  Thornton  facetiously.  Jack  intimated  that  it  would 
be  dangerous  for  the  weak  little  stroke  to  tackle  the  bow  that 
morning,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  were  amiably  pulling  and 
hauling  each  other  over  the  floor.  Thornton,  strong  as  he  was, 
had  a  gentle  way  with  him  and  never  exerted  his  full  strength  in 
'these  bouts.  There  was  something  very  kindly  in  the  nature  of 
this  strong,  handsome  lad.  He  was  so  true-hearted,  so  modest,  so 
gentle.  "  They  never  told  their  love" — but  Jack  and  Harry  had 
for  him  an  affection  which  his  early  death  the  succeeding  vacation, 
while  rescuing  two  women  in  the  surf,  turned  into  a  holy  memory 
of  their  first  year  at  Yale. 

This  is  what  college  life  gives  most  of  all — friendship — the  most 
enduring  and  lasting  of  a  man's  life.  The  Latin  and  the  Greek 
depart,  but  the  ties  of  kindly  feeling  are  never  quite  shaken  off. 
No,  not  even  when  we  grow  somewhat  tired  of  alumni  dinners  and 
"beloved  classmates,"  and  the  familiar,  "one  tie  shall  bind  us  ever 
—  we  were  classmates  at  old  Yale"  ! 

The  great  Harvard  nine  arrived,  bronzed  and  burly,  about 
noon,  and  put  up  at  the  Tontine  Hotel,  below  the  beautiful  green. 
Their  presence  was  signified  by  an  army  of  small  boys  and  curi 
osity  seekers,  who  hung  about  before  the  hotel  doors. 

Accompanying  the  team  were  fifty  to  a  hundred  Harvard  students, 
done  up  in  red  ribbons  like  bandboxes,  mostly  of  the  very  "swell  " 
type — patronizing  the  college  teams  was  not  so  universal  as  it  is 
now.  They  came  down  to  New  Haven  perfectly  confident  of 
victory.  They  affected  to  look  down  on  Yale  as  foemen  hardly 
worthy  of  Harvard's  steel. 

Most  of  the  Harvard  sympathizers  besides  their  ribbons  wore 
gentlemanly  little  rosettes  of  red,  while  the  Yale  men  swathed 
themselves  in  blue  ribbons.  Yale  hated  Harvard  and  its  top 
lofty  airs,  but  feared  it.  The  unmistakable  air  of  "Bostonese" 
gentility  pervaded  the  whole  delegation.  The  very  appear 
ance  of  the  nine  on  the  field  was  in  keeping  with  the  well-bred  air 
of  the  little  knot  of  swells  who  came  down  from  Cambridge  to 
back  their  nine.  There  was  not  that  terrible  over-earnestness  of 
the  Yale  nine.  They  played  easily  and  smoothly,  while  the  Yale 


164  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

team,  in  clumsy  uniforms  and  caps  with  queer  long  peaks,  made 
twice  the  honest  effort  to  play  well,  but  seemed  to  meet  with 
astonishing  ill-success. 

Long  before  the  game  began  Hamilton  Park  was  crowded  with 
carriages,  and  the  field  was  lined  with  spectators  from  the  little 
grand-stand  behind  the  catcher  to  either  side  of  first  and  third 
base.  The  student  crowds  were  not  organized  as  they  now  are  to 
give  concerted  cheers,  with  a  view  to  disconcerting  the  enemy's 
pitcher.  The  rival  'rah,  'rahs  rang  out,  however,  and  the  excite 
ment  and  nervous  tension  was  as  great  then  as  now.  The  rivalry 
of  the  two  great  universities  seems  to  be  bred  in  the  bone — in 
herited  from  our  fathers  who  fought  on  the  lakes  of  New  Hamp 
shire  and  Massachusetts  for  aquatic  supremacy.  Old  rows  never 
forgiven,  old  sores  never  healed,  bled  afresh  OH  these  occasions. 

This  bitterness  gave  additional  point  to  victory  and  intensified 
defeat. 

The  umpire  was  at  last  chosen,  and  in  the  toss-up  Harding  lost 
and  Yale  went  in  to  bat.  The  Harvard  team  sauntered  out  into 
the  field  as  if  conscious  of  victory.  Their  crimson  uniforms  were 
neat  and  "  becoming,"  as  Miss  Hastings  observed  from  her  aunt 
Miss  Mulford's  carriage,  which  had  drawn  up  in  a  capital  position 
behind  first  base.  Miss  Hastings  signified  her  loyalty  to  Yale,  as 
did  her  companion,  by  wearing  blue  ribbons  galore  in  her  hat  and 
around  her  parasol.  Her  companion  to-day  was  not  Miss  Mulford— 
the  elderly  spinster  had  no  head  for  baseball,  she  said,  and  ever 
since  the  overturning  of  her  landau  on  the  way  to  Lake  Saltonstall, 
had  kept  out  of  the  way  of  "  student  performances."  The  young 
lady  at  Miss  Hastings'  side  was  another  Charmingtonian,  and  it  was 
her  first  visit  to  New  Haven  and  her  first  game  of  baseball.  She 
was  of  a  lively  disposition,  and  at  the  moments  of  the  most  intense 
excitement  in  the  game  kept  up  a  rattling  fire  of  questions  at  a  tall 
senior  who  stood  on  the  steps  of  their  carriage. 

"  Does  he  try  to  hit  the  batsman  ?  "  she  asked.  "  He  doesn't 
succeed  very  well.  What  is  a  foul  ?  I  should  be  ashamed  to  make 
a  foul  play.  Is  the  ball  made  of  rubber  ?  How  white  it  is— oh,  what 
makes  that  man  throw  his  bat  at  the  catcher  so  and  run  this  way?" 


THE   BASEBALL   MATCH.  165 

Harry  was  seated  on  the  players'  bench  watching  Harding,  who 
was  first  at  bat,  "  slide  "  to  second,  when  someone  tapped  him  on 
the  shoulder.  There  were  in  those  days  none  of  the  present 
formalities  of  ropes  and  policemen  to  keep  back  the  crowd,  and  a 
majority  of  the  students  squatted  on  the  green  turf,  while  three 
or  four  Harvard  men  swaggered  about  offering  odds  of  two  to  one 
on  their  team  and  finding  few  takers. 

Harry  looked  up.  "  Why,  hello,  Uncle  Dick!  I  didn't  know 
you  were  coming  up." 

"I  thought  I'd  run  up  and  encourage  you  a  little,  my  boy.  I 
think  you're  going  to  win.  Don't  get  down  on  your  luck.  I 
think  you've  got  'em.  They  are  so  cocksure,  and  when  a  man 
is  cocksure  of  anything  he  is  pretty  sure  to  lose.  How  they 
strut  about  !  Perhaps  they'll  go  home  and  feel  sick  to-7iight. 
I'm  so  glad  you're  going  to  pitch,  my  boy.  Your  mother  wants 
me  to  telegraph  her  as  soon  as  the  game  is  over.  Hello  !  Hard 
ing  gets  third,  and  only  one  out.  I  always  think  the  first  inning 
is  the  most  exciting  in  a  ball  game — geewhitaker,  what  a  catch  ! 
but  Harding  gets  home,  one  run,  and  the  inning  is  half  over." 

Then  came  the  change  of  sides,  and  Harry  rose,  threw  off  his 
blazer,  and  strolled  out  to  the  box.  No  one  of  that  vast  throng 
imagined  his  heart  was  throbbing  wildly  and  that  he  was  clench 
ing  his  fists  to  hold  himself  down.  The  Yale  crowd,  led  by  Thorn 
ton,  gave  him  an  inspiring  volley  of  cheers.  Harry  overheard 
some  one  of  the  Harvard  nine  remark  laughingly,  "Oh,  I  guess 
we're  going  to  have  a  picnic;  I'm  sorry  for  the  poor  freshman's 
family — I  suppose  they're  all  here  to  see  the  kid  distinguish  him 
self."  He  had  pitched  in  games  before,  but  never  surrounded  by 
such  a  turbulent  crowd.  It  seemed  as  he  stood  there,  ball  in  hand, 
waiting  for  Captain  Harding  to  set  his  men,  as  if  he  could  see 
every  face  fastened  on  him  inquiringly  and  doubtingly.  He  even 
saw  Miss  Hastings,  in  her  carriage,  who  was  examining  him 
critically  through  an  opera  glass.  In  the  third  row — with  Grannis 
— sat  Ella  Gerhart  in  a  bewitching  hat  and  ribbons  (of  all  crea 
tures!)  smiling  down  at  him.  Behind  third  were  about  a  hundred 
freshmen,  with  Thornton  standing  up  waving  a  cane  and  leading 


1 66  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

the  cheers.  Over  by  first  was  the  little  knot  of  Harvard  men, 
waving  red  flags  and  openly  guying  him.  How  he  hated  and 
feared  Harvard  that  day!  The  Cambridge  men  had  never  yet 
been  beaten  by  Yale. 

If  he  failed,  he  failed  so  openly,  so  pointedly,  that  he  felt  he 
would  rather  die  than  face  the  college  again.  He  seemed  to  be 
alone.  He  turned  around  and  looked  at  Jim  Danforth,  who  was 
leaning  his  hands  on  his  knees  off  second. 

"Tm  here,  old  man!"  were  Jim's  words,  half  whispered,  half 
sung  to  him.  Instantly  he  felt  himself.  He  knew  Jim  was  ready 
there,  whatever  happened.  He  delivered  the  ball,  and  then  there 
was  a  mighty  crash,  as  if  every  throat  had  opened  and  bellowed 
out  of  pure  nervousness  and  excitement.  It  appeared  that  the 
great  Archie  Bush  had  struck  at,  but  had  not  touched  the  first 
pitched  ball. 

Now,  instantly,  Harry  felt  every  face  to  be  kindly  and  in  sym 
pathy.  The  next  ball  was  a  foul.  The  next  a  "ball,"  the  next  a 
feeble  grounder,  Bush  did  not  hit  squarely,  and  Jim  Danforth, 
apparently  not  noticing  particularly,  and  as  if  it  was  of  marvel- 
ously  small  importance,  picked  the  ball  up  and  carelessly  tossed  to 
first.  One  out. 

Henceforth  Harry  knew  that  the  crowd  was  with  him.  They 
were  friends  now — they  had  always  been  so,  of  course,  but  he  did 
not  feel  it.  He  recovered  himself,  and  the  next  man  went  out  on 
three  strikes.  Then  a  close  observance  of  his  pitching  on  part  of 
the  Harvard  nine,  and  a  hurried  consultation.  Gad!  the  kid  could 
pitch,  after  all.  The  next  man  encouraged  the  enemy  a  little;  he 
hit  a  long  fly — but  Harding  pulled  it  down  after  a  long  run. 
Score  1-0.  Even  innings. 

Then  the  game  settled  down  to  one  of  those  long,  hard,  slow 
fights  common  enough  in  the  long  list  of  games  since.  Not  one 
of  those  eighteen  players  but  was  in  dead, .solemn  earnest— except 
perhaps  "Dan,"  whose  nervous  tension  seemed  only  to  betray  itself 
in  a  ridiculous  over-coolness  which  amounted  at  times  almost  to 
indifference.  He  played  a  brilliant,  errorless  game,  having  that 
perfect  intuitive  knowledge  of  what  he  was  to  do  which  marks 


THE   BASEBALL    MATCH.  167 

the  best  professionals.  If  he  caught  a  hot  fly,  unlike  most  ama 
teurs,  he  wasn't  satisfied  with  that,  he  sent  the  ball  instantly  where 
it  ought  to  go.  He  was  a  rock  at  second,  and  came  in  for  the 
greatest  applause.  Tutor  Dilworthy  looked  at  Dan  only  all  through 
that  game.  He  had  eyes  for  no  one  else. 

In  those  days  scores  usually  got  up  into  the  twenties,  and  by  the 
eighth  inning  the  score  was  19  to  17  in  Yale's  favor.  Once  Har 
vard  got  into  a  streak  of  batting  and  led  by  5  runs;  then  Yale 
pulled  up  and  passed  her.  Harry  looked  up  and  saw  Miss  Hast 
ings'  face  when  Yale  was  behind.  She  seemed  unable  to  control 
her  tears.  But  she  smiled  again  when  Yale  led.  And  so  it  came 
to  the  eventful  ninth  inning.  No  one  sat  on  the  ground  now. 
Every  play  was  followed  with  the  most  intense  excitement.  Was 
Yale  destined  to  win,  after  the  long  years  of  fruitless  effort?  It 
seemed  so. 

Harry  nerved  himself  to  do  his  best,  but  he  was  really  very 
tired.  It  wasn't  the  mere  pitching,  it  was  the  strain  that  told  on 
his  inexperience.  Yale  made  no  runs  during  her  half  of  the 
inning,  and  the  last  half  came  on  with  Harvard  two  runs  behind. 

If  Harry  was  able  to  hold  them  down  the  game  was  wron. 
Through  the  entire  game  our  freshman  had  sent  in  the  ball  with  a 
precision  and  force  that  astonished  even  Yale's  reliable  back-stop. 
Two  runs  in  one  inning  Avas  pretty  hard  to  make  up,  and  it  would 
take  three  to  win.  Harvard  men  looked  very  glum  and  hardly 
gave  a  cheer  when  Harry  failed  to  strike  out  their  first  man,  who 
reached  first  on  a  fumble  by  Yale's  third  baseman.  The  Harvard 
player  started  for  second  the  third  pitch,  and  Crosby  was  a  little 
too  slow  in  getting  the  ball  into  Dauforth's  hands.  It  was  a  close 
decision,  but  the  umpire  called  it  safe.  Then  the  Harvard  crowd 
yelled  itself  hoarse,  but  quieted  down  as  their  next  man  retired  on  a 
fly  to  right.  The  Harvard  man  on  second  stole  third.  Then  a  man 
hit  the  ball  hard  to  short,  who  threw  home  to  head  off  the  Harvard 
man  on  third  base  and  prevent  his  scoring,  but  the  batter  reached 
first  safely  and  on  the  next  pitch  stole  second.  It  was  now  a  toss-up 
who  would  win  and  Harding,  to  steady  Harry,  walked  'way  in  from 
center  and  whispered,  "Take  it  very  slow,  and  worry  the  batsman." 


1 68  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

The  wait  had  a  good  effect  on  Harry,  who  afterward  confessed  to 
Jack  that  he  was  nearly  in  a  bad  state  of  "rattles."  He  struck  out 
the  next  man,  and  the  crowd  breathed  freely.  But  it  gave  a  great 
sigh  of  uneasiness  as  Archie  Bush  was  seen  selecting  a  long  willow 
bat  from  a  bundle  the  Harvard  nine  had  brought  with  them  from 
Cambridge.  Bush  was  tall  and  handsome,  with  a  long,  wavy 
mustache.  He  was  tanned  very  dark,  and  as  he  stood  there  per 
fectly  cool,  waiting  for  a  ball  "where  he  wanted  it,"  he  was  a 
perfect  specimen  of  an  American  college  player.  Probably 
Harvard  has  never  seen  his  like  since.  It  seemed  to  several  as  if 
Harry  weakened  before  him,  and  sent  in  balls  Avithout  much  swift 
ness.  He  let  one  or  two  go  past,  then  swinging  his  bat  with  a 
tremendous  effort,  hit  the  ball  fair  and  lifted  it  in  the  air.  Devin, 
Yale's  crack  left-fielder,  ran  back  to  the  rail  which  separated  the 
race  track  from  the  field.  Even  then  the  ball  was  ten  feet  over  his 
head.  No  such  bat  had  ever  been  seen  on  the  field.  Bush  trotted 
around  the  bases,  following  the  other  two  men  home,  and  Harvard 
had  won  the  day,  but  won  it  by  the  narrowest  margin.  The  Yale 
crowd  went  home  in  gloomy  silence.  It  was  like  a  funeral.  They 
thought  they  had  the  game.  Miss  Hastings,  driven  rapidly  home, 
passed  the  team  as  the  players  were  slowly  riding  back  to  college. 
She  did  not  recognize  Harry,  and  did  not  bow.  The  whole  world 
seemed  at  a  standstill  to  him.  The  weight  of  defeat  was  almost 
more  than  he  could  bear. 

"Boys,"  said  Bush,  as  the  Harvard  contingent  gathered  round 
him  and  raised  him  on  their  shoulders,  "that  freshman  will  beat 
Harvard  the  next  three  years — you  take  my  word — another  year 
will  make  that  young  rascal  invincible." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE    BACKS    AT    SPRINGFIELD. 

W  V^^"™"^  HE  great  races  at  Springfield,  to  be  held  the 
*  first  week  in  July,  now  took  up  a  great  deal 

of  time  and  attention.  Jack  went  up  with 
his  crew  a  week  before  the  "annuals"  began, 
and  Harry  a  day  or  two  before  the  races, 
partly  because  New  Haven  began  to  fill  up 
with  strangers  for  commencement  week,  and 
he  felt  that  a  freshman  was  out  of  place,  and 
partly  because  he  wished  to  avoid  the  assidu 
ous  attentions  of  the  Gerhart  family.  It  got 
so  that  Father  Gerhart  began  to  regard  him 
in  the  light  of  a  future  probable  son-in-law. 
It  was  getting  to  be  a  nuisance  to  have  him 

come  to  the  room,  and  sit  and  smoke  and  talk  about  his  new 
patent  electrical  lamps,  and  the  millions  he  had  "in  sight."  Gran- 
nis  met  him  once  or  twice,  and  when  he  found  he  was  Ella's  father, 
struck  up  a  warm  friendship  with  him.  Grannis,  with  his  rough 
red  beard  shaved  off,  and  a  mustache  only,  was  not  a  half  bad- 
looking  fellow.  In  spite  of  his  roughness  he  was  very  much  of  a 
gentleman,  and  always  in  dead  earnest  in  everything  he  did. 

He  had  tasted  almost  every  kind  of  border  life,  and  he  longed 
he  said  "to  get  acquainted  "  with  refined,  educated  women.  He 
appeared  to  be  surprised  that  he  wasn't  "invited  around  more." 
To  him  the  Gerharts  were  the  only  exception,  but  even  the  Gerhart 
girls  made  a  great  deal  of  fun  of  the  strong,  gritty,  honest  red 
headed  fellow.  He  was  very  kind  to  them.  The  fact  was  he  was 
secretly  in  love  with  the  pretty  Ella.  But  of  this  fact  he  never 
spoke  to  anyone;  he  merely  said  she  reminded  him  of  a  girl  he 
had  known  in  Keokuk,  who  had  died. 

1 60 


1 70  COLLEGE   DA  YS. 

It  was  the  thing  in  those  days,  and  perhaps  it  is  a  custom  still 
honored,  to  cram  for  "annuals"  while  sailing  among  the  pretty 
Thimble  Islands  or  cruising  off  New  Haven  Point.  After  Thorn 
ton,  Grannis,  Jack,  and  the  rest  of  them  went  with  their  crews  to 
finish  training  at  Springfield,  Harry  and  half  a  dozen  of  the  Gimly 
gang  hired  the  catboat  Fannie  and  spent  all  their  time  on  the 
water,  except  when  in  bed  or  in  Alumni  Hall.  The  "Annuals 
were  a  bore-ore-ore,"  as  the  song  went — a  decided  bore!  It  was 
only  by  interlarding  these  disagreeable  torture-chamber  ordeals 
with  a  day  of  calm,  beautiful  sailing  on  the  harbor  and  Sound  that 
they  were  able  to  be  satisfactorily  endured.  The  Fannie  always 
carried  a  good  lunch,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  text-books 
generally  lay  unheeded  in  the  cabin — not  neglected,  of  course,  but 
unheeded !  Why  read  in  Horace  of  the  "  rare  violet  sea  "  when  it 
lay  all  about  them?  Why  enthuse  with  the  soldiers  of  Xenophon 
over  "Thalassa!  Thalassa!"  when  the  blue  waves  lapped  the  sides 
of  the  Fannie  so  musically  and  lulled  them  to  repose  as  sweet  as 
that  of  Odysseus  upon  the  Island  of  Cyprus? 

On  one  of  these  delightful  days  of  dolce  far  niente,  they  had 
sailed  far  out  into  the  Sound  and  were  lying  becalmed.  Far  to  the 
north  and  east  rose  the  white  column  of  the  light-house,  like  a 
finger  of  alabaster  in  the  shining  June  sun  ;  to  the  south  lay  the 
wooded  shores  of  Long  Island,  and  in  the  offing  a  hundred  white 
sails  caught  the  soft  glow  of  the  sun  and  made  as  beautiful  a 
marine  picture  as  one  would  care  to  see.  It  was  high  noon,  and 
Best,  Coles,  Nevers,  Steele,  De  Kovon,  known  as  the  "Immaculate," 
Ritch  and  Harry,  comprising  the  Fannies  crew  of  that  day,  were 
all  stretched  out  on  the  deck  and  on  the  long  side  seats  asleep, 
when  suddenly,  loud  and  clear,  not  very  far  away,  came  the  sharp 
pop  of  a  champagne  cork. 

De  Koven  and  Harry  were  on  their  feet  in  an  instant  to  repel 
boarders  ! 

A  large  schooner  yacht  was  idly  flapping  her  great  sails  not  sixty 
feet  away  from  them. 

"Hello  there—  Umpty-four!"  shouted  a  young  man,  holding  a 
bottle  and  glass  in  his  hand,  beneath  the  awning  at  the  stern. 


THE   RACES  AT  SPRINGFIELD.  171 

"  Why — it's  Caswell  !  "  exclaimed  De  Koven.  "  Where  on  eartli 
has  he  dropped  down  from  ?  " 

As  the  boats  drifted  together  an  old  gentleman  came  out  on 
deck  and  called  to  the  boys  pleasantly,  "  Come  aboard,  youngsters — 
we're  just  going  to  have  lunch  !  " 

"  Come  aboard  ! "  shouted  Caswell.  "  We  want  to  hear  the 
latest  news  about  the  race  !  "  Harry  turned  red  and  then  pale — 
there  was — yes — it  was  Miss  Hastings,  in  a  pretty  white  yachting 
suit,  standing  at  Cas well's  elbow  ! 

"  We  shall  be  most  delighted  !  "  shouted  De  Koven  with  a  polite 
bow.  The  "  Immaculate"  was  never  at  fault,  either  in  knowing 
what  to  say  or  in  appearance.  Caswell,  who  had  just  returned 
with  Holland  from  abroad  in  time  for  the  'varsity  races,  was  over 
joyed  to  get  the  latest  college  news.  "  Who's  gone  to  the  senior 
societies?"  was  the  first  question  to  be  asked.  "And  so  you  made 
that  little,  smart  Dave  Johnson  chairman  of  your  Delta  Kap  Cam 
paign  Committee,  did  you?"  Meanwhile  he  introduced  them  all 
to  "father"  Caswell,  a  portly  old  banker  who  said  he  had  gradu 
ated  at  Yale  way  back  somewhere  in  the  previous  century,  and  one 
by  one  they  met  the  ladies  of  the  yacht,  which  flew  the  pennant  of 
the  X.  Y.  Y.  C.  at  the  foretop. 

At  last  he  was  formally  introduced  to  Miss  Hastings  by  Mrs. 
Caswell. 

"  Clara,  let  rne  present  Mr.  Hazleton — Miss  Hastings,"  she  said. 

"  Chestleton,"  corrected  Harry,  blushing  and  laughing  at  the 
same  time. 

"  Oh,  we  have  met  before — often,  haven't  we,  Mr.  Chestleton  ?  " 
said  Miss  Hastings. 

"Yes  ;  I  feel  we  arc  old  friends,"  said  Harry.  "  Do  you  remem 
ber  the  first  time  we  met  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  in  the  drawing-room  car." 

"  Yes."  lie  looked  at  her  surprised.  Had  she  remembered 
it? 

The  feeling  that  he  was  now  no  longer  a  very  fresh  freshman 
gave  him  courage.  Indeed,  he  wore  on  his  white  scarf  the  square 
society  pin  of  Delta  Beta  Xi.  Yes,  Miss  Hastings  accepted  him 


172  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

as  a  sophomore.  His  bosom  swelled  with  pride.  She  was  not 
ashamed  she  knew  him. 

"  I  hope  you  have  fully  recovered  from  the  upset  you  got  on  the 
Saltonstall  road?"  he  said,  by  way  of  beginning  conversation. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  but  we  have  met  since  then — on  the  ball  field — poor 
old  Yale  ! " 

Miss  Hastings  pretended  to  wipe  away  a  casual  tear. 

"  Oh,  wait  till  next  year  !  "  laughed  Harry.  "  Archie  Bush  leaves 
college  this  year.  Now  it  Avill  be  our  turn." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  never,  never  get  over  that  horrid  ninth  inning  !  " 
exclaimed  Miss  Hastings.  "  You  don't  know  how  I  felt.  I  went 
home  and  cried.  I  couldn't  take  any  tea  ;  indeed,  I  could  not  ! " 

Harry  looked  at  her  admiringly.  In  the  first  place  she  had  never 
looked  prettier  in  her  life  ;  in  the  second,  she  was  a  true  blue  Yale 
girl,  and  he  felt  they  had  a  common  cause.  How  different  she  was 
from  Ella  Gerhart !  He  stood  in  great  awe  of  her,  however,  as  yet, 
and  there  was  one  thing  that  worried  him  :  how  came  she  to  be  on 
the  Caswells*  yacht  ? 

"  Do  all  the  students  at  Yale  now  pass  their  days  on  the  water  ?  " 
asked  the  old  commodore.  "  In  my  day  we  had,  now  and  then,  a 
recitation — just  by  way  of  variety,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  this  is  '  annual  week,'  sir,"  said  Harry.  "  We  are  cramming 
for  examinations,  you  see.  "VVe  have  a  day  in  between  each  exam. 
It's  quieter  out  on  the  water,  sir,  and  we  are  not  interrupted  in  our 
work." 

"  Very  sorry  we  interrupted  your  studies,"  laughed  the  old  gen 
tleman.  "  But  can't  von  bring  your  books  aboard  ?  Miss  Hastings 

•-  o    *.  o 

and  the  other  young  ladies,  who  are  just  from  Charmington,  can 
assist  you." 

"I  suppose  you  were  worn  out  with  studying  all  the  forenoon, 
and  so  fell  asleep  out  of  sheer  brain  fatigue  ?  "  laughed  one  of  the 
young  ladies. 

"  I  believe  the  faculty  recommend  sailing  during  annuals,"  said 
Caswell,  Jr.  "Oh,  vou  girls  at  Charmington  never  know  what  real 

O 

study  means.  It  means  wet  towels  and  cold  tea  all  night,  and  a 
swelled  head  next  day." 


THE  RACES  AT  SPRINGFIELD.  173 

"We  study  very  hard  at  Charmington,"  said  Clara  Hastings,  her 
head  very  erect.  "  We  don't  graduate.  I  despise  a  girl  who  does 
anything  so  like — men.  But  we  have  to  work  very,  very  hard. 
And  Miss  Stout's  class  in  'the  Law  of  Love  and  Love  as  a  Law'  is 
famous  !  " 

There  was  a  general  laugh.  "  Ah,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  "  I 
suppose  they  even  teach  the  law  of  love  nowadays.  Has  love- 
making  become  a  lost  art,  then  ?  " 

"  You  don't  quite  understand,"  said  Clara  Hastings  coldly,  and 
the  old  gentleman  winked  facetiously  at  Harry.  Luncheon  was 
announced  presently  in  the  spacious  cabin,  and  a  delicious  one  it 
was.  The  yacht  Tarqum,  it  seemed,  was  out  fora  few  days'  cruise 
only,  and  was,  if  the  wind  sprang  up,  to  put  into  New  Haven  harbor 
at  sundown.  It  had  picked  up  the  Charmington  party  at  Bridge 
port.  One  of  the  four  Charmington  girls  was  a  relative  of  the  Cas- 
wells,  and  the  whole  party,  chaperoned  by  Mrs.  C.,  was  now  on  its 
way  to  the  races  at  Springfield. 

After  lunch  Caswell  glanced  at  his  father  admiringly,  and 
holding  up  a  glass  of  champagne  proposed  a  toast  to  the  class 
of  '43. 

"  Rum  boys  in  those  days  !  "  said  his  father,  "a  tough,  fighting, 
roaring,  devil-may-care  lot  of  dogs.  A  great  many  fire-eating 
Southerners — why,  we  had  a  duel  once  a  week.  What  do  your  little 
rows  between  classes  amount  to  nowadays — pish! — we  always 
killed  half  a  dozen  at  least  in  our  fights  !  I  had  to  fight  in  college. 
We  fought  the  townies  and  the  firemen  then.  I  carry  a  scar  on 
my  neck  still  where  I  Avas  cut  with  a  saber  by  a  fireman.  Did  you 
ever  hear  of  the  fireman  who  was  shot  ?  Well,  I  know  who  shot 
the  fellow,  but  it's  a  secret,  and  I'm  not  going  to  let  out  his  name 
now,  because  he  is  living." 

Of  course  the  ladies  looked  horrified. 

"Father,  tell  us  about  one  of  those  old  banger  rushes,  won't 
you,  and  about  the  herd  of  cattle  you  turned  loose  in  the 
chapel  ?  " 

"  Why,  in  our  day,"  laughed  the  genial  old  gentleman,  "  we  had 
the  faculty  all  at  our  feet.  They  never  dared  say  a  word.  They 


I?4  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

were  the  under  dogs  then,  and  we  students  were  on  top.  Why, 
when  a  professor  walked  across  the  campus  and  met  an  upper-class 
man,  he  always  touched  his  hat." 

Harry  held  his  breath. 

"And  when  any  tutor  became  unpopular,  we  just  gave  him  a  coat 
of  tar  and  feathers  in  the  good  old  Southern  style,  and  rode  him  on 
a  rail  clear  out  of  town  and  dumped  him  in  the  Quinnipiac.  Oh, 
we  never  stood  any  nonsense  from  the  faculty  !  We  had  it  all  our 
own  way.  My  son  tells  me  it's  the  other  way  now,  and  the  faculty 
is  not  behaving  as  it  should.  To  me  it  seems  that  old  Yale  must 
be  going  to  the  dogs  !  " 

Was  he  not  laughing  at  them? 

"  Here  is  Teddy—'  dropped."1  My  son,  if  you  had  been  in  '43 
you  never  would  have  been  dropped.  No,  indeed!  you  would  have 
made  the  faculty  conform  to  your  standard,  and  I  doubt  not  but 
that  we  would  all  have  had  an  easier  time  of  it.  I  tell  you,  students 
were  scarcer  in  those  da\rs,  and  the  faculty  used  to  encourage  every 
one  of  us  to  stay  on  and  graduate.  They  needed  our  term  fees. 
They  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing  as  dropping  us.  About  those 
cows  we  got  into  the  chapel — well,  we  just  did  that  to  show  the 
faculty  we  had  our  own  ideas  of  propriety,  and  weren't  to  be  tam 
pered  with." 

After  lunch,  when  Harry  and  Miss  Hastings  were  seated  on  deck 
a  little  apart  from  the  others,  she  said  :  "  Of  course  you  didn't  take 
for  earnest  all  that  Mr.  Caswell  said.  He's  the  greatest  tease  and 
the  greatest  joker  in  the  world.  He  is  always  quietly  'grinding' 
Ted  Caswell.  By  the  way,  they  say  he's  going  to  give  Yale  a  new 
dormitory," 

"  Is  he  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  he's  very  rich.  To  my  mind  it  was  awfully  brave  in  the 
faculty  to  drop  his  son.  I  think  that's  the  reason  he's  more  inclined 
to  give  them  the  dormitory — 

"  I'm  glad  they  did  it  ! "  exclaimed  Harry,  "  because  he's  now 
in  Umpty-four." 

"I  know  a  lot  of  professors'  families.  A  braver,  more  self-deny 
ing,  hardworked  set  of  men  never  lived  !  ".  said  Miss  Hastings,  her 


"WHAT    A — YALE   OWL,    YOU    AKE 


I76  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

eyes  fairly  glowing  with  feeling.     "  You  students  never  give  the 
faculty  their  due!" 

"  Why,  I  never  looked  at  them  as  particularly  brave"  laughed 

Harry. 

"But  they  are.  Look  at  their  salaries  !  What  men  of  their 
ability  would  not  prefer  to  go  out  in  the  world  and  earn  a  fortune? 
Money-getting  would  be  easy  enough  for  some  of  them.  Professor 
Maynard  is  very  rich  now.  What  with  his  arithmetics,  Aunt 
Mulford  says  he  is  Avorth  half  a  million.  Yet  every  day  he 
teaches  and  gives  his  salary  to  the  college.  Oh,  I  think  it  is 
grand  ! " 

"  What  a — Yale  girl  you  are  !  "  exclaimed  Harry  with  enthusiasm. 
"You  even  admire  the  faculty  !  " 

"  Well,  I  ought  to  be  ;  I  had  an  older  brother  who  left  Yale  in 
his  sophomore  year  and  went  to  the  war  with  fifty  others.  He 
was  killed.  I  was  a  little  girl  then,  but  I  remember  his  funeral  ; 
all  his  classmates  gathered  around  his  grave  and  they  sang  their 
old  time-worn  college  songs.  I  cried  my  eyes  out,  because  the 
songs  weren't  solemn — just  the  songs  he  used  to  sing,  that  was  all." 
Miss  Hastings  looked  away  a  moment.  "  Oh,  Yale  is  one  of  my 
traditions.  My  aunt,  Miss  Mulford — you  saw  her  that  day — she 
has  a  history.  I'd  like  to  tell  you  if  there  was  time.  It  was  a  love 
affair,  and  she  was  a  very  beautiful  girl  in  those  days,  just  before 
the  war,  and  the  college  was  full  of  Southerners.  She  was  wildly 
in  love  with  a  young  Virginian,  and  nearly  eloped  with  him  ;  but 
they  stopped  them,  and  afterward  the  Southerner  was  killed  in  a 
duel  at  Richmond.  New  Haven  was  very  gay  in  those  days,  not 
so  frightfully  dull  as  nowadays  !  I  imagine  people  entertained  a 
great  deal  more.  Southern  families  came  North  and  spent  the 
summer  there.  Oh,  I  have  heard  such  romantic  tales  from  Aunt 
Mulford  !  " 

"  Are  you  romantic  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  Can  one  be  romantic  in  these  dull  times  ?  "  asked  the  beautiful 
girl,  looking  about  the  yacht  and  not  realizing  the  charming 
romance  of  the  hour. 

"  Of  course,  we  are  more  practical,"  said  Harry.     "  Yale  is  more 


THE   RACES  AT   SPRINGFIELD.  177 

of  a  grind  now,  I  fancy.  From  what  I  can  gather,  in  those  ofc/days 
it  was  one  grand  holiday  !  " 

"  Why  can't  we  bring  those  days  back  again  !  "  she  sighed. 

"  Are  you  fond  of  holidays  ?  " 

"Not  always.  I  love  work.  I've  read  all  of  Emerson's  essays, 
and  one  of  Macaulay,  in  one  term,  outside  of  my  regular  studies  too, 
at  Charmington." 

"  That's  great  !     Was  Caswell  rusticated  there  then?" 

He  watched  her  narrowly.  Was  Caswell  to  be  his  deadly 
rival  with  this  girl  ? 

"N — no — I  think  it  wasn't  then.  It  was  before — I  knew — 
(she  was  going  to  say  "you" — but  said)  '  Emerson.'" 

"  He's  very  '  popular  ' '  — a  frequently  used  term  at  Yale.  "  He's 
a  swell  too,"  said  Harry  solemnly. 

"  Yes — and  he  deserves  it — he's  got  the  best  heart  of  an}'  man  I 
know.  I  like  a  man  of  heart " 

There  was  a  little  pause. 

"  He's  to  be  in  Umpty-four  next  year.  That  will  be  nice  for 
us." 

"  I — I  hope  he  will  behave." 

"  Are  you  so  much  interested  ?  " 

"  For  his  family's  sake." 

Harry  looked  around  the  yacht.  "  His  father  is  a  dear  old  boy," 
he  laughed.  "I  wonder  when  Yale  men  grow  old  ?  " 

"  Never  f"  exclaimed  Clara  Hastings.  "I  never  knew  an  old 
Yale  man.  When  you  speak  of  the  old  college,  do  you  know  it's 
sort  of  like  oats  to  horses  ?  They  prick  up  their  ears,  and  get  real 
jolly  and  young  again — just  as  Colonel  Caswell  does.  Why,  I've 
known  old  grads  to  actually  come  up  to  call,  and  try  to  kiss  my 
aunt  for  the  sake  of  old  times  !  " 

"  Oh,  dreadful  !  Horrible  !  "  groaned  Harry.  "  I  hope  I  should 
never  get  to  be  such  an  intense  Yale  man  as  to  want  to  kiss  any 
one  !  Even  for  auld  lang  syne  !  " 

He  looked  into  her  lovely  gray  eyes,  and  she  concluded  to  look 
down. 

She  had  a  sweet,  meek  little  air,  as  if  she  was  almost  afraid  to 


i78 


COLLEGE   DA  VS. 


listen  to  him  ;  yet  he  felt  she  Avas  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to 
riddle  him  with  some  amusing  sarcasm  all  her  own.  In  her  yacht 
ing  suit  and  charming  tan  Clara  was  bewitching,  that  day,  on  the 
beautiful  yacht,  on  the  blue  water.  There  was  a  seriousness  too 
of  which  he  had  not  believed  her  capable  ;  a  pathetic  note  in  what 
she  said,  which  was  very  captivating. 

"  I've  only  one  more  year  at  Charmington,"  she  said.  "  Then  I 
expect  to  come  '  out.'  " 

"  Then  I'll  be  a  junior — I  want  to  spqak  now — in  good  season 
for  every  waltz  at  our  Junior  Prom." 

"  Granted  !  "  she  laughed.     "_,No\v,  don't  "you  forget  me  !  " 

"  Forget  you?  "     Harry's  line  eyes  fairly  blazed  with  light. 

Miss  Hastings  laughed  a  little.  "  Oh,  you  must  write  your  name 
on  my  fan,  Mr  Chestleton,"  she  said,  "  and  add  '  pitcher.'  " 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  delighted  !  Do  you  know,  I've  heard  so  much 
about  you  ?  I've  heard  you're  a  wonderful  pianist.  I've  heard  you 
sing  too.  I've  heard  you  know  Greek  and  Latin — better  than — 
a — a — theologue  or  a  freshman  tutor.  I've  heard  that  you're  a 
wonderful  skater." 

He  leaned  forward  in  his  seat,  while  she  looked  down  so 
demurely.  "I  want  you  to  write  your  name  on  my  fan,"  she  said, 
"and  for  a  motto  you  might  add,  'Little  pitchers  have  big  ears  ! '" 


CHAPTER   XX. 

YALK     WINS! 

HERE  was  but  one  day  more  of  the  hated 
annual  examinations,  and  Jim  Danforth, 
who  had  burned  much  midnight  oil,  and 
who  went  about  looking  like  a  frightened 
ghost,  had  every  expectation  of  being  sum 
marily  dropped.  If  dropped,  he  intended 
to  punish  the  faculty,  he  said,  by  going  to  Harvard  and  beating 
Yale  for  the  next  twenty  years  at  baseball !  Luckily  for  Yale, 
Danforth  managed  to  slip  past  freshman  year  with  only  four  con 
ditions!  He  went  up,  with  a  broad  grin  on  his  face,  with  Harry 
to  Springfield  to  shout  and  hurrah  over  the  winners  of  the  great 
races  of  the  college  year,  the  never-absent  Mascotte  "Stamp" 
shambling  at  their  heels  to  add  his  trained  voice  to  the  din. 

The  newspapers  had  already  made  a  great  deal  of  the  races,  and 
several  New  York  papers  had  given  columns  each  day  to  the  solu 
tion  of  the  great  question — who  will  win?  There  was  Amherst, 
which  had  Avon  the  year  before.  There  were  Williams  and  Dart 
mouth  and  Brown,  each  with  good,  stocky  crews.  There  was 
Harvard  with  "  Dicky"  Strainer,  a  plucky  and  good  second-rate 
stroke,  with  the  great  Goodwin  at  No.  3;  and,  last  of  all,  there 
was  Bob  Clark,  with  his  "dark  horse"  Yale  crew,  whose  English 
stroke,  the  reporter  said,  was  the  combined  result  of  profanity 
and  the  hip-joint  disease.  Who  would  win?  Would  (/lark  force 
the  nose  of  Yale's  shell  first  over  the  line?  He  had  some  splendid 
"beef"  on  his  crew.  Yale  "beef"  was  always  a  drug  in  the 
market.  But  beef  alone  is  of  no  earthly  use  in  a  shell  except  as 
drilled  and  regulated  by  the  most  patient  coaching.  The  more  beef 
the  more  coaching,  is  the  rule.  Ilamm,  the  fat  Pittsburgian  who 


!g0  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

had  put  the  freshman  crew  into  the  "prettiest"  shape  ever  seen  on 
the  river,  openly  sneered  at  Clark  and  his  English  notions.  The 
boat  "  dragged,"  he  said ;  "  the  stroke  was  too  slow ;  "  "there  would 
be  no  more  of  Clark  after  the  race."  As  a  proof  of  what  he  said, 
the  Yale  freshmen  did  actually  pull  in  very  fast  time,  and  won 
easily  over  Harvard  and  Columbia  freshmen  crews.  They  swept 
down  the  course  with  a  precision  and  "prettiness"  which  would 
have  been  worthy  of  a  'varsity  crew.  Umpty-four  shouted  itself 
hoarse.  They  carried  Jack  on  their  shoulders  about  the  streets  of 
Springfield  and  into  all  the  hotel  bar-rooms.  Thornton,  who 
stroked  the  crew,  said  that  it  was  the  easiest  race  of  the  year. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  said  a  classmate,  "  I  wish  our  freshman  crew  was 
our  university " 

"  You  do,  do  you  ?  "  said  Thornton.  "  Well,  it's  a  fact  that 
night  before  last,  in  the  dusk,  the  'varsity  beat  us  two  lengths  in  a 
two-mile  sprint,"  at  which  everyone  opened  their  eyes. 

Pretty  soon  the  cries  about  the  hotel  lobbies — it  was  the  night 
before  the  race — were  :  "  Even  money,  Yale  against  the  field  !  " 
Thornton  had  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag. 

The  eventful  afternoon  of  the  race  arrived.  A  dusky  haze  lay 
over  the  broad  river,  and  a  smoke  from  the  busy  manufacturing 
town  hung  above  the  high  railroad  bridge. 

All  the  morning  what  a  noisy,  shouting  concourse  of  students  it 
was  !  There  was  a  band  of  Williams  men,  with  a  purple  banner, 
headed  by  a  big  bass  drum,  visiting  hotel  after  hotel  and  bar 
room  after  bar-room.  Here,  at  the  Blaight  House,  were  the  Har 
vard  supporters  gathered  en  masse — a  noisy,  bumptious  crowd  in 
those  days,  accustomed  to  victory  and  feeling  they  belonged  to 
the  "biggest  university  in  the  United  States,  and  owned  the 
world."  They  despised  the  little  fresh-water  colleges.  They  wore 
very  stylish  clothes  and  displayed  any  quantity  of  crimson  ribbon. 
At  the  Massasoit  House  Yale  hung  out  her  blue  banners.  The 
hotel  was  crowded  from  cellar  to  garret,  Men  slept  sixteen  in  a 
room.  All  colleges  were  packed  in  together  there.  It  was  a  good 
thing  to  get  the  different  colleges  acquainted  with  one  another — 
to  rub  elbows,  as  it  were— the  fine,  free-hearted,  splendid  Ameri- 


YALE    WINS!  181 

can  college  boy — none  pluckier,  squarer,  quicker  witted  than  he  in 
all  the  world  !  Cornell  men  were  somewhat  oddly  dressed  in  those 
days,  many  of  them  in  black  doe-cloth,  looking  like  incipient  minis 
ters,  with  flaring  red  neckties  and  an  inclination  to  blow  horns — 
but  they  were  plucky  and  jolly  too,  as  the  rest. 

Among  the  fresh  water  colleges  little  Williams  has  always  been 
considered  the  swellest,  it  being  the  alma  mater  of  many  rich 
men's  sons,  who  are  sent  up  into  the  Berkshire  Hills  to  pass  a 
healthy,  if  not  an  especially  studious,  four  years.  Williams  men 
always  "  showed  up  well,"  it  was  said.  They  appeared  to  be  men 
of  the  world.  Their  clothes  fitted  ;  they  went  to  a  good  tailor. 
Not  so  Amherst  or  Dartmouth.  At  Amherst  the  corrugated 
brow,  the  pall  of  "earnestness,"  of  desperate  efforts  after  the 
unattainable,  were  the  characteristic  signs.  Their  faces  were  set ; 
they  rarely  smiled  ;  they  abhorred  betting  ;  they  avoided  the  bar 
rooms.  The  Dartmouth  boys,  on  the  contrary,  were  a  jolly  set  of 
country  farmers'  sons — hearty,  healthy,  rough,  and  noisy — always, 
if  possible,  introducing  in  conversation  the  subject  of  the  great 
Daniel  Webster,  who,  they  modestly  intimated,  graduated  and 
afterward  wept  over  their  alma  mater.  Honest  New  Hampshire 
boys  these,  the  pith  and  marrow  of  subsequent  famous  lawyers 
,  and  statesmen.  Brown  Baptists  from  Providence  were  fonder  of 
their  cups,  it  appeared,  than  tlie  Wesleyan  Methodists.  The 
Brown  crew  was  in  very  good  order,  and  by  many  believed  to 
stand  a  show  with  Harvard,  to  whom  many  of  the  small  colleges 
conceded  the  great  race. 

So  came  on  the  great  eventful  afternoon  regatta.  Masses  of 
people,  pushed  and  pushing,  walking  and  riding,  made  their  way 
to  the  grand  stand  at  the  end  of  the  course.  Pretty  girls — such 
pretty,  enthusiastic  girls!  in  all  hues  of  ribbons.  Yale  girls 
among  Harvard  girls,  Amherst  girls  among  Brown  girls — cheering, 
"wah — who — wahing,"  after  the  manner  of  Dartmouth,  or  rah — 
railing,  after  the  manner  of  Yale  and  Harvard,  or  siss — boom — ah  ing 
after  the  manner  of  Princeton.  There  were  agitated  young  men 
in  college  colors  and  enormous  badges,  who  were  supposed  to  be 
the  regatta  committee,  running  about  here  and  there  among  the 


1 82  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

carriages  and  the  crowd.  There  were  policemen  trying  to  keep 
some  semblance  of  order,  and  there  were  very  crimson  students 
shouting,  "  Harvard  even  against  the  field  !"  Such  a  crowd  and 
such  a  scene  met  the  eyes  of  Caswell,  Harry,  and  their  party  as 
they  drove  down  from  Idlewild,  where  the  young  ladies  had 
been  stopping — the  pretty  country  villa  of  Miss  Garland  on  the 
heights  above  the  river  to  the  north. 

When  the  coach  took  its  stand  Harry  amused  himself  by  calling 
out  to  his  classmates  who  passed  by  mingled  in  the  crowd,  and 
pointing  out  to  Clara  Hastings  some  of  the  "  great  men  "  of  the 
senior  class.  "There's  Edmund,  the  man  who  never  smiles,"  he 
said,  pointing  to  a  handsome  melancholy  young  man  with  an 
intellectual  air  about  him.  "  There's  Pitkins — that  short  rnan 
with  him. ' 

"What  has  the  great  Pitkins  done?"  asked  Clara  amusedly. 

"  He  simply  is  Pitkins,"  said  Harry  ;  "  the  most  popular  man  in 
his  class.  And  there's  Franklin,  chairman  of  the  Lit.  Board — the 
greatest  literary  light  that  ever  came  to  Yale.  See  what  a  fine 
mustache  he  has  !  And  there  is  Murray — in  red " 

"  A  Harvard  man  ?  " 

"  No  ;  oh,  no  !  He  can't  help  his  hair.  Don't  you  see  the  blue 
ribbon  in  his  buttonhole?  He's  the  most  pious  class  deacon,  they 
say,  in  college  ;  and  there  is  little  Starkas,  the  poet." 

"  Hello,  Harry  ! "  called  out  a  cheery  voice  just  below  them. 

"  Hello,  Uncle  Dick  ! "  and  Harry  was  off  the  coach  in  an 
instant,  being  hugged  and  shaken  hands  with  by  Mr.  Lyman,  who, 
with  a  lot  of  old  Yale  men  living  in  New  York,  had  come  up  to 
see  the  race. 

"  This  is  my  nephew,"  said  Uncle  Dick  proudly,  as  he  intro 
duced  the  tall  handsome  lad  to  his  various  friends.  "  He  pitched 
on  the  nine— and  we  came  nearer  beating  Harvard  than  we  ever 
did  in  ten  years.  Well,  Harry,  my  boy,  so  you're  a  sophomore  ! 
How  time  flies  !  " 

"  Yes.     I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  in  college  a  lifetime." 

"  How  comes  it  you  are  in  the  Garland  coach  ?  " 

Here  Uncle  Dick  bowed  to  several  ladies  on  the  coach  he  knew. 


YALE    WINS!  183" 

"  Oli  !  I'm  one  of  the  party,"  said  Harry.  Then  one  of  Lyman's 
New  York  friends  said  in  a  whisper  :  "  There's  that  beautiful 
Miss  Hastings — the  belle  of  Charrnington — she's  Collins'  niece. 
Say,  Dick,  get  Collins  to  introduce  us  old  fellows  !  She's  a  Yale 
girl,  and  we  want  to  know  her  ! " 

Presently  the  whole  party  was  introduced  all  around,  and  Clara 
Hastings,  swathed  in  blue  ribbons,  found  herself  the  center  of  the 
admiring  Yale  delegation. 

The  scene  was  a  charming  one.  The  coach,  together  with 
several  hundred  other  carriages,  occupied  a  grassy  bluff  above  the 
river,  opposite  the  finish-line.  Below  and  at  one  side  was  the 
grand  stand,  now  closely  packed  with  students  and  ladies  wearing 
every  shade  of  color.  Blue  prevailed  ;  but  blue  is  not  a  striking 
color,  and  in  masses  has  an  unpleasant  way  of  appearing  black. 
The  river  was  smooth,  with  scarcely  a  ripple.  The  western  banks 
were  lined  with  people  as  far  north  as  the  eye  could  see.  It  was 
very  hot,  and  a  mass  of  thunder-claps  foreboded,  in  the  west,  the 
usual  summer  afternoon's  storm  of  tlie  Connecticut  River  Valley. 

The  Garlands  had  put  up  some  hampers,  and  the  coachman  was 
getting  out  their  magnums  of  champagne  for  a  bumper  to  "  dear 
old  Yale,"  when  the  cry  came,  "  They're  off  !  They're  off  !  "  But 
this  proved  to  be  a  false  alarm,  and  the  solemn  coachman  pro 
ceeded  with  his  duty  without  looking  round.  "  Here's  to  dear  old 
Charmington,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  raising  his  glass  to  Miss  Hastings, 
who  sat  above  him  as  he  stood  by  the  side  of  the  coach,  holding  a 
glass  in  her  hand. 

"  And  here's  to  the  belle  of  Charmington,"  laughed  one  of 
Lyman's  New  York  friends,  "  who's  just  graduated  !  " 

Miss  Hastings  frowned.  "  We  do  not  have  'belles' — nor  do  we 
'graduate  '  at  Charmington,"  she  said  icily.  "  It  isn't  considered 
ladylike." 

The  other  Charmington  girls  gave  her  glances  of  high  approval. 
"No!"  cried  Uncle  Dick,  who  was  engaged  in  shaking  hands 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cnswell,  who  came  up  in  another  carriage. 
"  Nothing  so  absurd  and  lote  is  ever  done  at  Miss  Stout's." 

"  No  one  can — it  is  impossible  to  pass  her  rigid  examinations," 


!84  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

laughed  old  Mr.  Caswell.  «  No  young  lady  was  ever  yet  able  to 
take  a  degree  at  Charmington." 

All  laughed,  and  there  was  another  cry,  which  made  everyone 
leap  to  his  feet  and  frantically  wave  handkerchiefs—"  They're 
off— and  Yale's  leading  !  " 

"  Oh,  glory  !  "  cried  Harry,  mounting  to  the  highest  seat  on  the 
coach,  where  he  stood,  one  foot  on  Uncle  Dick's  shoulder,  waving  a 

flag. 

"Rah— rah— rah—  Yale!'1''  roared  up  and  echoed  from  across 

the  rivei'. 

On  came  the  slender,  narrow  racing  shells — Amherst  and  Cornell 
and  Brown,  over  in  the  center  ;  Harvard  close  to  the  east  shore  ; 
Yale  to  the  west,  hardly  visible  in  the  dusk  ;  Harvard  just  beneath 
them,  tugging  and  straining  in  beautiful  form.  It  was  a  grand 
race  between  these  two  great  rivals — leaving  the  others  far  behind. 
On  sped  Harvard  just  beneath  the  bank.  They  were  going  very 
fast,  and  Uncle  Dick  shouted  up  to  the  coach  : 
"  Yes  ;  it's  Harvard's  race  !  " 

"  Heavens  and  earth!  why  don't  they  break  an  oar!  "  cried  Harry. 
"  Dicky   Strainer — Dicky   Strainer!    rah — rah — rah  !  "    jauntily 
shouted  the  Harvard  "  willies  "  near  them,  "  we've  got  it  all  right  !  " 
But  see  Yale  !     It  is  something  new  those  six  men  are  doing  out 
there  now  in  the  middle  of  the  river.     The  great  English  stroke  is 
beginning  to  tell  in  the  last  half-mile.     The  crew  is  not  pumped — 
is  not  pulling  as  if  they  were  at  all  excited..    It's  a  slow  movement 
of   the  back,  but   lightning  with   the   arms  !     But   see   the   boat 
jump  I—jump  f—jump !     It  is  a  revelation.     It  is  science.     It  is 
what  forty  years  of  rowing  in  England  is  teaching  America.     Har 
vard  pulls  and  pulls  with  desperation.     The  men  are  pumped  with 
that  quick,  "  snappy  "  stroke  which  looks  so  pretty  and  is  so  heart 
breaking  to  pull.     The  cannon  booms.     All  is  over — except  the  lit 
tle  colleges  coming  tagging  in  one  after  another  in  hopeless  con 
fusion.     The  cannon  booms  again,  and  rowing  in  America  from  that 
moment  starts  on  a  new  basis.     Yale  has  won  the  day,  and  Bob 
Clark  is  the  greatest  man  in  the  universe  ! 

At  the  grand  regatta  ball  that  night,  Jack,  Thornton,  and  Clark 


YALE  WINS!  185 

of  the  crews  were  the  heroes  of  the  hour,  and  Harry  yielded  to 
Thornton  two  one-halves  of  his  dances  with  Miss  Hastings.  How 
glad  he  was  L/J  did  this  afterward  when  that  flower  of  his  class, 
that  handsome  lad,  met  his  death  in  saving  the  lives  of  two  women 
at  Watch  Hill  during  the  ensuing  summer  vacation.  The  last  time 
Harry  ever  saw  Thornton  was  when  he,  in  his  immaculate  dress 
suit,  smiling  with  victory  and  handsome  as  an  Apollo,  was  dancing 
with  the  beautiful  girl  so  elegantly  that  others  stopped  and  ad 
mired.  The  lights,  the  music  of  the  ball,  the  dancing — ah  !  the 
"Beautiful  Blue  Danube"  waltz  never  sounded  to  Harry's  ears 
again  without  his  remembering  the  picture  of  that  fine  3roung  friend 
of  his  who,  when  the  moment  came,  quietly  and  without  a  word 
gave  up  his  life  to  save  the  lives  of  strangers.  Thornton,  Vale  ! 
Mayst  them  rest  in  peace  ! 

Long  vacation  found  Harry  home  after  another  day  at  Spring 
field — a  day  devoted  to  a  picnic,  a  garden  party,  and  a  dance  at 
Miss  Garland's.  He  went  home  very  much  disturbed  in  mind. 
He  was  beginning  to  be  in  love  with  Clara  Hastings,  and  he 
believed  that  Caswell  was  by  long  odds  the  favorite  in  the  beautiful 
girl's  good  graces. 

His  mother  had  taken  a  pretty  cottage  for  the  summer  on  the 
south  shore  of  Long  Island.  Mrs.  Chestleton  was  a  tall,  pale, 
rather  nervous  lady,  who  had  as  yet  rather  crude  ideas  of  college 
life.  From  Harry's  yarns,  with  which  he  regaled  her  and  his 
sister,  she  made  up  her  mind  that  Yale  College  was  a  very  "rough" 
sort  of  place.  Uncle  Dick  spent  his  summer  with  them  at  Seaside 
Beach,  going  up  to  business  every  day  but  Saturday  and  Sunday. 
The  cottage  was  large  and  roomy,  and  there  were  always  some 
people  visiting  them.  Kitty  Chestleton  had,  it  seemed,  innumerable 
friends.  She  had  grown  to  be  a  charmingly  healthy,  red-cheeked, 
jolly  young  girl,  who  could  ride  as  well  as  her  bi'other,  and  who 
seemed  to  have  as  decided  taste  for  outdoor  sports  as  he.  She  was 
just  at  that  age  when  college  students  were  beginning  to  be,  as  she 
said,  "glorious  fun."  Harry  had  not  been  home  a  day  before  she 
was  wearing,  in  her  innocence,  his  Delta  Kap  pin.  When  Jim 


1 86  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Danforth  arrived  he  gave  her  his  Beta  Xi  badge.  She  thought 
Jim  Danforth  one  of  the  "nicest"  men  she  ever  knew. 

To  their  mother,  who  had  been  brought  up  delicately  in  the  old- 
fashioned  method  of  keeping  the  girls  of  the  family  housed  up 
within  doors,  all  this  outdoor  life  was  very  queer;  it  seemed 
wrong  to  her — she  could  not  understand  it. 

Of  course  Uncle  Dick  Lyman,  her  brother,  explained  to  her  the 
great  change  that  had  come  over  things  since  the  war.  Harry's 
father  had  not  been  a  college  man.  As  a  well  to  do  business  man, 
he  had  been  fond  of  horses  and  billiards.  These  were  his  relaxa 
tions.  He  had  been  very  brave  in  the  war,  too,  being  an  old 
Seventh  Regiment  veteran,  and  rising  to  a  position  on  General 
Rives'  staff  in  the  Army  of  the  Shenandoah.  He  had  been  twice 
shot  and  the  second  wound,  through  the  lungs,  had  been  the  indi 
rect  cause  of  his  death  a  few  years  after  the  war  and  two  years 
before  our  story  opens.  The  friendship  of  Jack's  and  Harry's 
fathers  had  dated  from  the  battle  of  Anti'etam.  Harry  never  for 
got  the  sight  of  General  Rives — the  one-armed  veteran,  pale  and 
stern  with  his  sorrow  over  his  old  comrade's  death,  marshaling 
some  of  the  old  Seventh  veterans  at  his  father's  funeral.  From 
that  day — and  even  before  it— General  Rives  had  been  a  second 
father  to  him.  Bessie,  Jack  Rives'  sister,  had  been  at  school  with 
Kitty.  It  was  a  natural  thing  that  Jack  and  Harry  should  be 
chums  at  college. 

"You  boys,"  said  General  Rives  one  day,  as  they  all  sat  out  on 
the  sands,  watching  the  surf — the  general  and  Jack  were  spending 
a  week  with  them— "shall  go  through  college  together,  and  then, 
when  you  graduate  and  come  down  to  New  York,  you  shall  go 
through  your  live  years  in  the  dear  old  Seventh  together.  I  know 
of  no  finer  experiences  in  all  our  splendid  American  life  for  young 
men  than  Yale  and  the  Seventh!  If  you  are  not  gentlemen  then, 
God  help  you— I  know  of  nothing  that  can  help  you— I  wash  my 
hands  of  you  both!" 

"I  never  had  any  militia  valor!  "  said  Jack,  laughing. 

"Militia  valor!  "  burst  out  the  old  gentleman.  "What  is  peace 
given  us  for  except  to  prepare  for  war?  Peace  means  preparation, 


YALE    WINS!  187 

drill,  learning  to  be  soldiers.  I  inarched  down  Broadway  with 
the  Seventh  in  '61 — captain  of  my  company.  Harry  Chestleton 
was  in  the  front  rank — though  he'd  only  been  married  then  a 
year.  I  didn't  know  him  then.  The  Seventh  was  at  once  dissi 
pated  into  officers.  I  got  a  regiment.  Harry  was  made  captain  in 
it.  By  George!  our  'militia  valor,'  as  you  call  it,  my  boy,  served 
us  in  good  stead." 

"Oh!  but  there'll  never  be  another  war — 

"Don't  be  too  sure!  War  is  not  an  unmitigated  evil — and  there 
will  be  wars  to  come,  and  you  may  be  in  them.  I  fully  believe 
inside  of  fifty  years  there'll  be  a  war  between  labor  and  the  state. 

I  want  you  to  be  ready.  By !  I  want  you  to  understand  that 

a  country  like  ours,  worth  living  in,  is  worth  fighting  for  and 
dying  for,  too.  The  war  changed  many  things.  It  changed 
college  life  at  Yale  in  one  way — it  made  it  much  more  cosmopoli 
tan.  The  West  sent  very  few  of  its  sons  to  college  before  the  war. 
The  South  sent  only  the  scions  of  wealthy  families.  But  since  the 
war,  which  brought  the  States  together  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and 
nationalized  our  country  as  no  other  event  could  do,  the  great  uni 
versities  of  New  England  became  the  centers  of  national  university 
life  as  never  before.  Take  the  catalogues  of  Harvard  and  Yale  in 
1860,  and  compare  them  with  the  catalogues  of  1870.  Harvard  is 
no  longer  Boston,  and  Yale  is  no  longer  New  York  and  Connecti 
cut.  The  West  is  sending  her  sons  East  to  be  educated.  And  the 
Western  money-making,  pushing  man  of  practical  ideas  admits 
that  the  old  colleges  of  New  England  are  after  all  the  best  educa 
tors  of  youth." 

"The  West  is  getting  some  splendid  institutions,  too,  of  her 
own,"  said  Uncle  Dick.  "Even  California  is  crowning  her  career  as 
a  State  by  an  institution  the  like  of  which  is  hard  to  seek  in  the 
Eastern  States,  and  drawing  some  of  its  professors  from  Yale." 

"But  I  hope  they  won't  adopt  the  class-room  system  of  Yale  in 
their  new  Western  institutions,"  said  Harry.  "It's  the  worst  way 
to  'instruct'  a  man  I  can  conceive  of.  No  tutor,  except  perhaps 
dear  old  Dilworthy,  ever  gave  us  one  word  of  real  teaching.  They 
merely  listen  to  what  you've  got  to  say — and  mark  what  you  <!on'lt. 


i88 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


say.  They  are  dumb  as  oysters,  merely  blink  at  you  if  you  go 
wrong  or  'flunk' — never  think  they  are  put  there  to  inform  you  of 
anything.  'Chestleton! ' — I  rise.  'Proceed!' — and  I  proceed. 
Not  a  word  do  they  say  except  to  ask  a  few  questions  about 
grammar,  or  some  rot  about  the  times  of  the  author,  and  then, 
'sufficient' — and  then  they  call  up  the  next  man.  I  say  it's  all  so 
absurd.  The  English  system  of  private  tutors,  with  lectures  and 
exams,  is  ever  so  much  better." 

"Oh  yes!"  cried  Jack,  digging  up  handfuls  of  sand.  "I  wish 
we  had  the  Oxford  system.  Even  I  could  hope  to  learn  something 
then ! " 


"STAMP." 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

MRS.    CIIESTLETOX    ADMONISHES. 

A  WEEK  later,  while  they  were  enjoying  their  pleasant  sea 
side  home,  came  the  dreadful  news  of  Thornton's  terribly 
sudden  death  in  the  surf  at  Watch  Hill.  Harry  and  Jack  were 
summoned  by  telegraph  and  went  on  at  once  to  the  funeral,  at 
Southdown,  Conn.,  where  the  Thorntons  had  their  country  seat. 

It  was  a  sad  day  for  "Yale,  Umpty-four."  Thornton  was  by 
right  the  king  of  the  class.  Brave,  strong,  good,  and  a  gentleman. 
The  women  were  saved;  two  ladies  who  had  foolishly  ventured 
too  far  out.  Thornton  had  spent  his  last  ounce  of  splendid  young 
strength  in  holding  them  up  until  the  boat  came.  Then  he  sank 
out  of  sight  in  the  merciless  seas  and  they  found  him  that  night 
far  down  the  shore — drowned. 

When  Harry  returned  home,  after  the  funeral,  he  was  melan 
choly  and  silent  for  days.  He  had  loved  Thornton — had  wor 
shiped  him.  He  could  not  realize  he  was  really  gone  forever. 

"Half  of  our  class  attended,"  he  told  his  mother.  "The 
funeral  was  the  saddest  you  can  imagine.  Dear,  dear  old  Thorny! 
— oh — it  was  terrible."  The  tears  sprang  again  into  his  eyes. 
"Thorny  looked  so  natural — he'd  never  had  a  sick  day  in  his  life 
— and  his  face  didn't  look  as  if  he  were  dead.  There  was  a  smile 
on  his  lips,  and  they  filled  his  coffin  witli  not  white  roses  only  but 
red  and  pink — and  our  class  glee  club  did  all  the  singing.  Presi 
dent  Stout  came  up  from  New  Haven.  Thornton's  father  looked 
like  a  dead  man — his  heart  was  bound  up  in  his  son.  Oh,  why  was 
that  strong,  beautiful,  dear  fellow  taken?  The  two  ladies  he  saved 
are  very  rich  and  they  were  there,  dressed  in  deep  black.  They 
have  requested  Mr.  Thornton  to  be  allowed  to  erect  a  white 
marble  Greek  tomb." 


i  go 


COLLEGE   DA  VS. 


His  mother  was  all  sympathy.  "  Oh,  if  it  had  been  you,  Harry !" 
she  kept  saying  to  herself.  "  If  God  had  taken  you  !  " 

"We  stood  about  his  grave— fifty  of  us— and  every  fellow's  eyes 
were  full  of  tears.  He  was  so  popular.  He  was  like  a  brother  to 
everyone.  He  was  a  Christian — but  liberal;  full  of  fun  too — a 
splendid  oarsman." 

His  uncle  and  sister  came  out  on  the  piazza  where  they  were 
sitting,  and  Kitty  went  up  and  kissed  him  in  sympathy.  The  dear 
girl  had  cried  many  tears  over  Thornton. 

Presently  Uncle  Dick  and  Kitty  strolled  off  on  the  sands,  and 
Harry  continued  :  "I  could  tell  just  what  a  boy  he  had  always  been 
from  the  poor  farmer  folk  who  came  to  the  funeral.  They'd  let 
Thorny  shoot,  ride,  fish — anywhere  in  the  whole  township.  They 
worshiped  him,  and  when  his  crew  beat  the  Harvard  freshmen  at 
Springfield  they  turned  out  and  burned  blue  fire  at  Southdown,  and 
Thorny  made  'em  a  speech.  Whj',  it  was  just  as  if  a  calamity 
had  broken  out  in  the  town.  There's  a  girl  they  told  me  about 
who  had  loved  him — they  were  engaged — and  she's  ill  in  bed  and 
won't  recover." 

"0  Harry!  she  will,"  said  his  mother.  "Time  heals  these 
terrible  things.  We  forget  them.  I  wish  you  would  not  go  out 
so  far  when  you  go  in  bathing." 

"Oh!  Tm  not  good  like  Thornton,  my  dear  mother." 
"I  want  you  to  be,  Harry,"  sighed  the  good  woman.     "I  want 
you  to  be  like  your  father." 

"I  wonder  if  he  went  about  falling  in  love  with  every  pretty 
face  he  saw,"  said  Harry,  gloomily  and  self-recriminatingly. 

His  mother  looked  away.  Harry  came  and  sat  down  near  her, 
and  his  head  fell  on  her  lap.  She  caressed  his  head  a  few  moments, 
and  then  said  slowly:  "Harry,  dear,  there  is  one  episode  of  your 
dear  father's  life  I  have  never  told  a  soul.  I  think  the  time  oppor 
tune  to  tell  it  to  you.  You  know  that  he  was  a  very  handsome 
man— a  splendid  soldier— brave.  We  had  not  been  long  married 
when  he  went  to  the  war.  It  broke  my  heart.  You  were  a  little 
boy  then.  I  was  so  nervous  and  afraid  the  news  would  come  any 
moment  that  he  was  wounded,  that  I  kept  a  trunk  packed  in  readi- 


MRS.   CHESTLETON  ADMONISHES.  1 91 

ness  to  set  out  for  Washington.  Those  were  trying  times.  Now, 
in  one  of  his  inarches  your  father  had  occasion  to  stay  a  month  on 
an  old  plantation  in  Culpepper  County,  Virginia.  There  was  a 
family  of  women  gathered  on  the  old  plantation.  Two  or  three 
families  of  the  higher  class  country  folk  were  gathered  together 
there,  and  of  course  they  made  no  pretense  of  opposing  the  Union 
forces.  General  Rives  made  it  his  headquarters,  and  your  father 
was  with  him,  and  several  other  young  officers,  who  had  little  or 
nothing  to  do. 

"  There  wras  there  a  daughter  of  a  rebel  general — a  very  beauti 
ful  girl,  Marion  White.  She  was  tall,  had  dark  hair  and  dark 
eyes,  a  laughing,  sweet  mouth,  and  eyebrows  penciled  in  the  most 
beautiful  arches.  She  was  a  great  rider  and  loved  outdoor  life. 
She  was  a  great  flirt,  too.  She  set  out  to  flirt  with  your  father. 
To  do  her  justice,  she  did  not  know  he  was  married. 

"All  those  weeks  of  September,  I  remember,  when  your  poor 
father  /supposed  and  imagined  being  riddled  with  shot  or  lying 
dead  on  some  battlefield — 'for  he  wrote  then  very  seldom — he  never 
was  a  very  good  correspondent — not  as  good  as  you,  Harry — all 
those  dreadful  weeks  he  was  sunning  and  basking  in  the  light  of 

Q  O  O 

Marion  White's  beautiful  eyes.  I  forgave  him  when  he  confessed 
afterward,  but  it  was  only  after  a  long  while." 

"I  can't  think  of  father,  whose  books  and  sword  I  revere — the 
idea  of  his  flirting  with  a  pretty  girl!" 

"  Well,  men  are  all  alike,  my  dear  boy,  and  when  you  get  older 
I  doubt  not  but  that  the  day  will  come  when  you  will  flirt  too." 

Harry  writhed  in  his  chair,  but  said  nothing.  Hitherto  the 
boy  had  never  had  anything  he  was  ashamed  to  confess.  He  had 
told  his  mother  of  his  many  boyish  affaires.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  had  almost  always  been  secretly  in  love  with  someone  very 
much  older  than  himself.  He  remembered  as  a  boy  in  church 
secretly  worshiping  the  back-hair  of  a  young  lady  who  afterward 
became  the  wife  of  their  clergyman.  "He  never  told  his  love,  but 
let  concealment,  like  the  worm  i'  the  bud,  feed  on  his  damask 
cheek!  "  He  cogitated  as  to  whether  he  would  speak  of  Ella  Ger- 
hart  to  his  mother,  while  she  continued: 


I92  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"Your  father,  I  am  sure,  did  not  discourage  Marion,  neither  did 
he  particularly  encourage  her.  She  was  beautiful,  and  she  pos 
sessed  a  daring  soul. 

"  It  shows  how  a  man  can't  have  any  intimate  relations  with  a 
woman  unless  one  or  the  other  sooner  or  later  really  falls  in  love. 
This  Platonic  love  they  talk  about  exists  only  for  old,  steady- 
going,  tea-drinking  people,  who  are  more  or  less  passe. 

"It  must  have  been  very  pleasant  in  the  old  Culpepper  Virginian 
country  house  during  that  month.  I  never  blamed  your  father 
very  much.  After  a  week  or  so  of  protestation  and  love-making, 
to  his  horror  he  discovered  that  Marion  White  was  wildly  in  love 
with  him  in  earnest! 

"She  had  started  out  with  the  idea  of  winding  him  round  her 
finger,  but  she  ended,  as  he  expressed  it,  in  following  him  wher 
ever  he  went,  like  a  pet  spaniel. 

"He,  of  course,  felt  like  a  villain.  It  got  so  that  he  dared  not 
tell  her  he  was  a  married  man.  She  was  so  horribly  tragic  that  he 
feared  she  would  commit  suicide.  The  agony  he  underwent  was 
of  course  very  severe.  It  had  been  agreed  that  no  one  should  let 
out  his  secret.  Indeed,  each  one  of  the  officers  went  in  to  have  a 
good  time  and  tell  no  tales." 

"Oh,  father!  father!"  laughed  Harry,  "I'm  afraid  you  were 
not  all  that  we  could  wish  in  your  young  days !  " 

"Your  father  was  the  soul  of  honor.  He  felt  it  his  duty  to  con 
fess  to  the  beautiful  Southern  girl  that  he  was  married,  but  exactly 
how  he  could  not  determine.  He  was  afraid  to  shock  her.  Her 
•high  Southern  pride  was  so  great  that  she  would  as  lief  kill  herself 
as  not.  He  grew  cold  and  distant,  and  did  everything  to  send  her 
to  the  right-about — but  it  was  of  no  use. 

"She  wished  to  go  North,  although  she  had  three  brothers  at 
the  front  fighting  under  Stonewall  Jackson — just  out  of  love  for 
him ! " 

"Poor  father!  what  did  he  do?"  asked  Harry. 
"I  tell  this  story  to  you,  Harry,  because  it  will  be  a  lesson  to 
you— a  warning,"  said  his  mother  solemnly. 

"  The  time  came  when  the  army  moved  on  toward  Richmond, 


MRS.  CHESTLETON  ADMONISHES.  193 

and  General  Rives  changed  his  headquarters.  Your  father  wel 
comed  the  day  when  he  could  depart  and  leave  his  inamorata  at 
Culpepper.  What  was  his  chagrin  to  learn  that  Marion  White 
proposed  to  accompany  him !  At  his  wits'  end,  he  went  and  told 
General  Rives.  The  general  gave  your  father  a  severe  lecture, 
then  told  him  to  leave  matters  with  him. 

"Marion  followed  after  the  army  with  a  faithful  colored  servant 
woman.  Your  father  says  it  wrung  his  heart  to  see  the  girl,  so 
wistful,  so  lovely,  following  on  in  all  the  ragtag  and  bobtail,  'so  as 
to  be  near  him.'  On  the  second  day  she  was  suddenly  arrested  as  a 
spy,  and  she  and  the  servant  were  sent  to  Washington  and  put  on 
parole.  They  were  treated  with  especial  favor  and  were  soon 
allowed  to  go  home.  Then  a  report  was  sent  to  her  that  your  father 
was  killed.  Marion  White  survived  that  wretched  announcement, 
and  afterward  married  a  rebel  colonel,  who  is  now  in  the  Senate. 
She  is  Mrs.  Senator  Collingsby;  and  her  hatred  for  the  North, 
and  Northern  men,  is  still  proverbial.  It  was  not  till  afterward 
that  your  father  found  out  that  she  was  really  a  spy  all  the  time 
and  conveyed  news  to  the  Confederates  extorted  from  him.  It  did 
not  help  matters  much,  for  your  father  said  that  he  had  had  suffer 
ing  and  remorse  enough  from  that  affair  to  cure  him  of  flirtation 
forever.  How  is  it  with  his  boy?" 

"A  chip  of  the  old  block,  I  guess!  "  laughed  Harry. 

"I  hope  there  is  no  girl  in  New  Haven  whom  I  don't  know 
about,  Harry?" 

"Freshmen  are  not  supposed  to  have  love  affairs " 

His  mother  playfully  boxed  his  ears. 

"Tell  me,  Harry." 

"Tell  you— what?" 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  Mother,  I— I— 

"I  don't  intend  to  scold.  A  mother  makes  a  great  mistake  in 
not  entering  into  a  son's  real  feelings,  and  trying  to  sympa 
thize " 

"You  would  not  think  it  was  right  in  me,  mother.  You  would 
tell  me  never  to  see  her  again.  She's  a  shop  girl — 


194 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


"I  would  want  ray  boy  to  be  honorable  and  high  just  as  his,, 
father " 

"  Wasn't!"  laughed  Harry.  "Ah!  yes;  I  know  he  was,"  he 
added,  as  his  mother's  face  fell.  "But,  mother,  college  is  queer. 
There  are  lots  of  thing  one  doesn't  speak  about  at  home,  you  know. 
You  wouldn't  understand — 

"Ah,  Harry!  you  will  make  me  suspect  dreadful  things — 

He 'threw  his  arms  around  her  and  kissed  her.  "Poor  little 
mother,"  he  said  coaxingly,  "don't  ask  me  and  I'll  tell  no  tales. 
Don't  suspect  dreadful  things — please  don't!  " 

"Then  tell  me  all  about  her."  There  was  a  silence  of  a  few 
moments;  the  sea  moaning  and  rolling  along  the  shore. 

"There  were  two,"  said  Harry,  and  his  mother,  like  Rory 
O'Moore,  took  comfort  in  numbers  and  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"One  was  a  shop  girl — far  below;  the  other  was  a  Charmiugton 
girl — far  above."  He  laughed,  while  his  mother  said  not  a 
word. 

"Yon  see  freshmen  are  not  tolerated,"  he  went  on,  "and — at  a 
cake-walk — 

"A  cake-walk?" 

"A  darky  affair — lots  of  fun,  all  the  fellows  go — I  met  Ella 
Gerhart,  a  nice,  honest  shop  girl — pretty  as  a  fawn — nothing  bad 
about  her — full  of  fun.  Her  father's  a  mechanic,  an  inventor. 
Oh !  1 — I  took  her  riding  a  few  times,  and — oh  !  it's  nothing " 

Still  his  mother  said  nothing,  and  Harry,  feeling  rather  encour 
aged,  went  on.  "Oh!  I'm  rather  drawing  off  now.  She  was 
always  so  jolly!  There's  a  fellow  named  Grannis  in  our  class,  a 
rough,  good,  honest  felloAV,  who  now  is  more  devoted  than  I  am. 
But  she  seems  to  care  for  me  a  good  deal.  She  has  Avritten  me 
three  times,  and  she  is  going  to  join  her  sister  in  a  variety  troupe 
this  Fall!" 

"Oh,  my  boy  !  "  she  exclaimed  in  anger. 

"Why,  mother!  what's  the  matter?" 

"You've  made  her  care  for  you,  poor  girl!  and  now  you  mean  to 
coolly  throw  her  overboard  !  " 

"No,"  said  Harry,  with  affected  earnestness.     "I  mean  to  leave 


MRS.   CHESTLETON  ADMONISHES.  195 

college  and  marry  her.  The  old  inventor  and  I  get  along  very 
well,"  and  he  laughed.  "He'll  make  an  excellent  pater." 

His  mother  didn't  seem  to  like  this  side  of  the  case  any  better, 
so  she  murmured,  with  a  sigh,  "  Well,  tell  me  about  the  other  one 
— the  one  you  look  up  to." 

"Her  name  is  Miss  Hastings.  She's  the  niece  of  Miss  Mulford 
of  New  Haven.  She  was  on  the  train  when  I  went  up  with  Uncle 
Dick  to  college.  Oh !  she  will  never  look  at  me — that  loay. 
Then,  her  carriage  tipped  over  once  and  I  helped  her  up.  She's 
perfectly  beautiful,  and  she  can  say  awfully  sharp  things  right  to 
a  fellow's  face  and  never  let  on.  I'm  hoping  next  year  to  have  a 
better  show — but,  mother — after  all — don't  worry  over  me.  It's 
nothing.  1  care  more  for  winning  the  Harvard  game  next  year 
than  for  any  girl  that  ever  lived.  Girls  don't  seem  to  be  a  part  of 
college  life  very  much  in  the  early  years.  Now,  don't  lie  awake 
nights  and  fret.  I  have  been  perfectly  frank  and  told  you  every 
thing." 

"Harry,  my  boy,  I  had  no  idea — 

"I  never  told  you  about  the  fern.  sems.  at  Andover,  did  I?" 
laughed  the  young  lad.  "Well,  there  were  two  there — but  now, 
see — I've  almost  forgotten  their  names!  " 

"But  I  am  so  sorry  for  the  pretty  young  shop  girl.  I  dare  say 
she  is  perfectly  innocent.  She  probably  thinks  a  student  is  next 
to  a  young  god.  Ah,  my  boy  !  your  duty  is  to  be  chivalrous,  to 
protect  the  innocent,  to  be  strong  whore  they  arc  weak;  but  I'm 
afraid  you  have  the  ignoble  idea  of  girls — they  are  lawful  prey. 
That  is  the  old-fashioned  notion." 

"T  mean  no  harm." 

"But  suppose  someone  should  treat  Kitty — should  make  love  to 
her  and  not  mean  it?  " 

"Oh!  that's  a  different  matter." 

"But  is  it?" 

"If  any  man  treated  Kitty  unkindly,  I — I  would  thrash  him 
within  an  inch  of  his  life!  " 

His  mother  rose  and  went  to  the  cottage  door.  "Think  of  these 
things  a  little,  Harry.  That  pretty  young  shop  girl  touches  me. 


196  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Oh !  it  is  so  sad  for  a  girl  to  have  to  be  sent  out  to  work  to  earn 
her  own  living.  She  needs  so  much  more  respect  and  more  kind 
ness.  Her  life  is  so  dreary.  She  is  apt  to  be  easily  influenced. 
She  has  so  many  trials,  so  many  temptations.  If  she  is  pretty,  it's 
so  much  the  more  dangerous  for  her.  And  you  say  she  is  going  on 
the  stage?" 

"Yes;  so  she  writes." 

There  was  a  short  silence. 

"Oh!  I'll  give  her  up,"  he  said. 

"Harry,  I  don't  want  you  to.  I  want  you  to  use  your  influence 
over  that  poor  girl  for  her  good." 

Then  his  mother  went  into  the  house,  and  probably,  poor  woman, 
up  to  her  room,  to  weep  and  pray  for  her  darling  boy. 

Harry  walked  out  on  the  sands  in  the  moonlight  alone.  "For 
her  good"  he  muttered  over  and  over  to  himself.  It  was  a  new 
idea  to  him.  The  remembrance  of  Ella  flooded  him  with  a  mild 
kind  of  remorse.  She  had  been  so  confiding.  He  was  filled  with 
a  boyish  anguish  of  soul.  He  feverishly  hurried  into  the  house 
and  wrote  her  a  long  letter  full  of  brotherly  kindness  and  advice. 
Henceforth  he  would  be  a  brother  to  her. 

The  next  day  they  set  out  for  the  mountains,  and  left  Uncle  Dick 
alone  in  New  York.  At  lunch,  after  Harry  had  gone  out,  Mrs. 
Chestleton  said,  the  day  they  left,  "I'm  afraid  Harry  is  very  wild." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  the  old  fellow. 

"Hope  so?" 

"A  man  has  to  sow  his  wild  oats  sooner  or  later.  Sometimes 
he  doesn't  sow  them  in  college.  They  grow  up  later  and  are  far 
worse.  Let  him  have  plenty  of  rope  now.  Depend  on  it,  his 
athletics  will  keep  him  from  going  very  far.  What  has  he  done?" 

"Nothing." 

"Well,  don't  nag  him,  sister — that's  all." 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


THE    SOPH    YEAR    BEGINS. 

HARRY  went  back  to  New  Haven  with  his 
mother  and  sister  a  few  days  before  the 
Fall  term  opened.     The  boys  had  selected  a  room 
in  South  Middle,  "in  the  thick  of  it,"  as  it  was 
said. 

It  was  great  fun  meeting  the  fellows  again  and 
hearing  what  they  had  done  during  the  long 
vacation,  but  Thornton's  sad,  heroic  death  threw 
a  strange  gloom  over  the  old  campus  now. 
Things  hardly  seemed  the  same.  It  was  not 
like  "old  times." 

Umpty-four  had  apparently  sent  her  130  young  men  into  every 
State  of  the  Union.  Some  had  joined  an  expedition  of  Professor 
Marsh  across  the  plains  and  into  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Some  had 
been  at  the  seashore — Mount  Desert  claimed  five.  Others  had  been 
in  the  White  Mountains,  or  in  Canada  fishing;  but  a  majority  had 
gone  quietly  to  their  rural  homes  and  led  quiet  lives  of  study  (!). 
All  had  proceeded  to  fall  in  love  as  frequently  and  as  regardlessly 
as  possible.  Jack  Rives  had  been  most  of  the  time  with  his 
father,  mother,  and  sister  at  the  c#mp  in  the  Adirondacks.  He  had 
great  stories  to  tell  of  enormous  trout  he  had  caught  and  the  deer 
he  had  shot.  He  was  tanned  like  an  Indian.  Tie  said  he  had  put 
on  a  good  deal  of  tan  paddling  a  canoe,  in  which  there  happened 
always  to  be  some  girl.  "I  thought  I  was  hard  hit  one  time,"  he 
said,  as  the  chums  went  to  work  with  a  will  to  furnish  their  room 
in  red  chintz  and  get  it  ready  for  occupancy  by  the  opening  day 
of  the  term.  "She  was  a  Miss  Susie  Fairweather — a  regular  daisy  ! 
oh,  such  eyes!  and  she  was  only  eighteen,  and  yet  she  pretended 


I98  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

for  a  long  while  she  was  twenty-two — just  to  lord  it  over  me  and 
put  me  down,  you  know.  There  were  lots  of  girls  up  at  camp, 
but  she  was  the  prettiest !  " 

"Well,"  said  Harry,  holding  a  few  nails  in  his  mouth,  "do  you 
know  I've  got  so — so 

"£lase,"  interposed  Jack,  laughing. 

"Well,  a  girl  is  insipid— she  is  stupid,  if  she's  too  good;  isn't 
that  so?" 

"That's  bosh !  "  laughed  Jack.  "I  know  lots  of  girls  you  could 
never  kiss,  even  with  parents'  permission  and  a  letter  of  indul 
gence  and  authority  from  her  resident  pastor,  yet  they  are  bright, 
jolly,  well-behaved,  nice  girls,  too." 

"Now,  there  is  my  sister,"  laughed  Harry.  "I  suppose  you'll 
try  and  kiss  her — won't  you,  Jack?" 

"Only  in  a  brotherly  way." 

"Try  it — Kit's  awfully  strong.  She'd  box  your  ears  well  for 
you.  She's  strong  enough  to  do  you  up!  " 

Seeing  their  room  lit  up  that  evening,  a  number  of  their  friends, 
of  the  old  famous  Gimly  gang  and  others,  dropped  in  while  Mrs. 
Chestleton  and  Kitty  were  there.  De  Koven  (who  had  spent  his 
summer  at  Newport)  was  one  of  them.  He  had  developed  a  great 
deal.  \IIe  was  much  more  "stocky"  than  when  he  rattled  the 
sophomore  crew  at  Lake  Saltonstall.  When  he  went  out,  Harry's 
mother  said,  "What  charming  manners  that  boy  has!" 

"Boy!"  laughed  Jack.  "For  the  life  of  you,  only  speak  of  us 
as  'men'  now!  We  are  sophomores!" 

"Well — man,  then.  I  should  know  he  was  a  New  York  boy — 
man,  I  mean!  Well,  he's  a  good  pattern  for  you." 

Presently  Steele,  Nevers,  Coles;  Hitch,  and  one  or  two  others 
came  in  in  a  body,  and  then,  when  they  saw  ladies,  tried  to  bolt 
out  again  in  a  body;  but  Harry  detained  them  and  presented  them. 

To  Kitty  they  were  "men"  indeed!  She  sat  on  a  cushioned 
window-ledge,  with  Stamp  seated  admiringly  beside  her.  The  dog 
liked  people  who  weren't  afraid  of  his  ugly  mug,  and  Kitty  had 
treated  him  from  the  first  with  the  utmost  frankness  and  fearless 
ness. 


THE    SOPH    YEAR   BEGINS.  199 

"Did  I  tell  you  Stamp  saved  my  life  in  the  woods  last  summer?" 
said  Jack.  "I  fell  asleep  on  the  grass  deer-stalking  one  night, 
and  a  rattler — a  rattlesnake,  you  know — began  to  coil  itself  close 
to  my  foot.  If  I  had  moved  he  would  have  bitten  me.  The  first 
thing  I  knew,  Stamp  had  fastened  his  cast-iron  jaws  on  the 
reptile's  neck,  just  behind  his  head.  I  awoke  and  killed  it — but  it 
was  a  long  time  before  Stamp  would  let  go.  When  he  did  I  took 
him  down  to  the  lake  and  washed  out  his  dear  old  mouth.  Father 
scolded  me  for  a  whole  day  after  that.  But  do  you  see  Stamp's  new 
silver  collar,  with  Fides  on  it?  Father  got  it  for  him  and  fitted  it 
himself.  I  think  the  general  likes  Stamp  now  just  as  much  as  I  do." 

Little  Nevers  and  Kitty  fell  into  a  highly  literary  conversation. 
They  spoke  of  several  American  novels,  and  of  the  last  one  of 
Howells. 

"The  men  are  all  so  priggish!"  said  Nevers.  "In  novels  men 
are  apparently  changed  into  refined  women — the  American  novel 
is  written  for  old  maids,  and  the  characters  arc  always  at  work 
dissecting  their  own  motives.  But  Howells  is  a  great  moralist,  and 
that  is  why  he  is  great.  I  don't  mind  telling  yon  that  I'm  going 
to  write  a  Lit.  essay  on  him,  so  don't  think  what  I  say  is  the 
work  of  the  moment.  I've  sized  that  delightful  author  up.  He's 
a  great  moralist — it's  my  own  idea." 

"He  isn't  generally  so  considered,"  said  Kitty.  "I've  heard 
people  speak  of  him  as  a  photographer,  he  is  so  accurate." 

"Oh,  just  wait  until  you  read  my  Lit.  article!  Between  us, 
Miss  Chestleton,  I  have  my  eye  on  the  Lit.  board — it's  a  great 
honor  to  get  on,  but  somebody's  got  to  get  there  out  of  our  class 
next  year,  and  why  not  1?" 

"I  believe  in  being  ambitious,"  said  Kitty,  "even  if  things  are 
beyond  one." 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Chestleton!  Do  you  know  what  your  daughter  is 
saying  to  me?  "  laughed  Nevers,  who  was  the  frankest,  most  good- 
natured  little  fellow  in  the  world.  "She  says  the  Lit.  board  is 
be}rond  me!" 

"I  didn't  mean —  '  said  Kitty,  blushing;  "Mr.  Nevers, 
really " 


200  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

"She  only  meant  that  you  were  beyond  it,"  laughed  Jack. 
"But  go  in,  little  lad;  who  knows  but  what  you  are  a  nice  little 
literary  genius?" 

Then  all  the  "men"  in  the  room  began  to  chaff  young  Nevers 
unmercifully,  to  take  the  conceit  out  of  him.  When  they  were 
through,  Mrs.  Chestleton  said : 

"Why  not  have  a  good,  high  ambition?  You  Yale  boys  are 
very  fond  of  dragging  everyone  down.  You  are  great  democrats. 
You  are  levelers.  No  one  must  declare  for  anything.  You  say 
it's  bad  'form.'  You  are  dead  set  against  all  youthful  enthusiasm. 
Now,  I  like  it.  It  accomplishes  great  things  sometimes,  unless  it 
is  killed  too  soon." 

"No!"  said  Harry.  "We  are  right,  mother,  dear;  we  believe 
in  letting  what  we  do  speak  for  us,  don't  you  know !  " 

"Oh!  that's  ridiculous — it's  unnatural  in  young  people.  You 
teach  yourselves  to  be  too  greatly  self-contained.  I  believe 
in  expansion.  It's  the  only  way  to  tell  what  you're  good 
for." 

"It  is  the  trouble  with  Yale,"  said  Nevers  thoughtfully.  "It 
is  too  terribly  afraid  of  being  'young.'  My  brother,  who  was  at 
Oxford  a  year,  said  that  English  students  are  a  thousand  times  less 
dignified  and  have  a  better  time." 

"I'm  sure  we  were  young  enough  last  year,  what  with  hat-steal 
ing,  class-rushes,  and  all  that,"  laughed  Coles. 

"Oh!  but  freshmen  don't  set  the  true  Yale  tone,"  said  Harry. 
"  Mere  boys !  " 

"The  true  Yale  spirit  sits  on  novelty  and  orginality — I  shall 
make  that  another  topic  for  a  Lit.  article,"  laughed  Nevers. 

"It's  too  conservative.  We  are  old  before  our  time,"  insisted 
Hitch. 

"That's  what  Uncle  Dick  says,"  said  Kitty.  "He  was  oldest 
at  graduation.  Then  he  began  to  grow  young  again.  To-day 
he's  quite  frisky." 

Presently  Coles  was  persuaded  to  open  the  piano  and  sing  some 
of  his  comic  songs.  He  had  finished  one  amid  great  laughter,  and 
was  beginning  another,  when  an  ominous  knock  was  heard  on  the 


THE   SOPH    YEAR  BEGINS.  201 

door.     They  opened  it.     There,  with  kindly  smiles,  stood  the  lank, 
lone,  and  lorn  Tutor  Dilworthy  with  a  book  in  hand. 

"  Oh !  "  he  cried  aghast,  "  pardon  me ;  I  had  no  idea — ladies — 

But  they  seized  him  and  carried  him  pell-mell  into  the  room  and 
presented  him.  lie  was  greatly  embarrassed. 

"I  came  in  to  hear — some  music,"  he  said  timidly,  and  sat  down 
in  a  corner. 

So  Coles  sang  some  more,  and  attracted  by  the  music,  half  a 
dozen  other  fresh-faced,  nice-looking  lads  entered  the  room. 
Mrs.  Chestleton  looked  about  from  face  to  face  in  the  light  of  the 
lamps  and  gas.  There  was  a  hearty,  whole-souled,  manly  look 
about  them.  She  was  instinctively  aware  that  these  athletic 
young  men — the  representatives  of  so  many  well-bred  American 
families — were,  after  all  their  fun  and  chaffing,  pervaded  by  a 
nice  sentiment  of  honesty  and  manliness.  They  would  not  go  far 
wrong,  any  of  them.  They  might  drink  a  little  and  on  occasion — • 
but  they  would  not  "go  to  pieces."  But  their  lack  of  boyishness 
she  thought  distressing. 

As  they  walked  back  to  the  New  Haven  House,  across  the  moon-- 
lit  campus,  Kitty  said   sorrowfully,  with  a  pathetic  little  sigh,  "I 
can  never  be  a  man — I  can  never  be  a  student  at  Yale !  " 

"  Oh,  wait  until  our  Annex  is  started !"  said  Nevers  at  her  elbow. 
"Or  why  not  try  the  Art  School?" 

Just  then  a  great  cry  of  "Fresh! — Fre — e — esh!"  resounded 
under  the  elms. 

"Think  how  we'd  haze  you  girls!"  laughed  Jack,  "and how  we'd 
snatch  your  bonnets — you'd  wish  you  were  a  girl  again  pretty  quick!" 

A  week  later  it  came  time  for  Mrs.  Chestleton  and  Kitty  to 
return  home.  Harry  and  Jack  were  now  comfortably  housed  in 
their  sophomore  den  in  South  Middle,  and  the  mother  and 
daughter  had  spent  many  pleasant  hours  arranging  and  "tidying" 
up  their  quarters.  Pictures  were  purchased,  knickknacks  bought. 
Tutor  Dilworthy  was  consulted  as  to  the  best  general  reading  for 
their  new  library. 

"After  the  Latin  authors,"  he  hesitated,  "I  should  choose — 
Thackeray." 


202  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

So  a  set  of  Thackeray  was  purchased,  and  then,  of  course, 
Dickens  and  Scott  had  to  follow.  Jack  got  his  victorious  Springfield 
oar  and  hung  it  above  the  door.  Harry  hung  up  a  trophy  of  his 
baseball  victories.  Stamp,  in  his  new  silver  collar,  felt  that  his 
new  home  was  not  unworthy  of  him. 

The  night  before  they  went  away  Harry  and  his  mother  sat 
alone  in  the  latter's  room.  Kitty  was— somewhere— witli  the 
irrepressible  Nevers,  presumably  discussing  literature. 

"Harry,"  she  said,   "I  have  been  to-day— while  you   were  at 
recitation— to  see  that  Gerhart  girl." 
Harry  stood  up,  amazed. 
"Why?"  he  gasped. 

"Because,  somehow,  I  felt  sorry  for  her.  I'm  glad  I  did  so. 
Kitty  doesn't  know  it." 

"  Was  that  the  reason  why  you  were  dressed  up  so  when  I  came 
to  supper — your  very  best?  Oh,  mother — 

"Yes,  I  did  wear  my  best,  Harry;  I  wanted  to  honor  her.  I 
found  out  where  she  lived  and  drove  there  while  you  were  in 
"recitation.  I  saw  Mrs.  Gerhart.  I  saw  the  Jovelike  old  in 
ventor.  I  saw  Ella  alone;  she's  prettier  than  you  told  me, 

Harry " 

The  lad  said  nothing. 

"She  looked  quite  pale.  She  had  been  home,  she  said,  from  the 
store,  sick.  She  was  very  busy  at  work,  sewing  on  some  tinsel 
costumes — she's  going  on  the  stage."  . 

"So  I  am  told." 

"Harry,  for  a  long  time  I  just  sat  looking  at  her,  and  hearing 
her  prattle  about  you  and  about  her  sister  on  the  stage.  It  was 
neat  as  wax  about  the  house.  They  are  evidently  a  good  middle- 
class  German  family.  They  are  very  poor — but  they  have,  what  I 
like,  a  pride  of  poverty.  When  I  went  in,  the  good  'mutter'  was 
reading  aloud  and  crying  over  a  beautiful  copy  of  Faust.  I  saw 
they  were  frightened  at  my  advent  at  first,  especially  as  I  said  at 
once  that  I  was  your  mother.  Mrs.  Gerhart  said,  'you  were  a 
nice,  good  boy.'  Ella  behaved  like  a  shy  kitten,  until  I  stroked 
her  and  petted  her  a  little ;  then  she  lost  her  shyness.  That  pretty 


THE    SOPH    YEAR   BEGINS.  203 

creature  forced  to  earn  her  own  living!  It  was  pathetic — the  way 
she  talked  about  the  store,  and  the  hard  work  it  was,  and  how  tired 
she  wa^.  They  are  not  low  class;  they  are  very  much  better  than 
I  expected.  Ella  was  a  picture.  She  was  so  pretty!  I  dare  say 
it  was  her  illness — 

"Ella  would  make  me  a  capital  wife?"  Harry  glanced  at  his 
mother  quizzinglyl 

"If  you  have  led  her  to  thiiik  so,  then  I  think  if  your  father  was 
alive  he  would  say  it  was  a  scoundrelly  performance — making  her 
love  you — 

Harry  flushed  angrity,  but  his  mother  was  very  cool  and  did  not 
apparently  notice  him. 

"It  was  peculiarly  so  because  of  her  dependence.  Some  girls 
are,  I  suppose,  naturally  wild.  They  are  hard  and  coarse.  What 
I  dislike  in  this  affair  is  that  you  have  never  seen— or  reali/ed 
what  is  so  apparent — her  unusual  delicacy.  Of  course,  no  one  ex 
pects  you  are  going  to  marry  for  years  yet — and,  of  course,  you 
must  marry  in  your  own  class — so  we  won't  talk  of  marriage. 
But  you've  done  this  girl  a  great  wrong.  You  have,  Harry.  It 
is  written  in  her  pale  face.  She  loves  you." 

"By  God!  I've  never  injured  a  hair  of  her  head,"  cried  the 
lad,  excitedly. 

"I  don't  mean  that  you  are  guilty  of  anything  as  bad  as  that. 
But  she  loves  you,  and  you  made  her  love  you,  this  is  your  sin- 
Harry  sat  down  on  a  chair  and  his  head  fell  on  his  hands.  "I 
couldn't  help  it,"  he  said  huskily.  "I  thought  I  loved  her.  She 
was  always  so  full  of  fun,  until  the  last.  We  used  to  laugh  and 
joke  one  another.  I  hardly  believed  she  was  in  earnest." 

There  was  a  short  pause. 

"If  you  could  see  her  now,  to-day!  the  dull,  vacant  look  in  her 
eyes.  Before  I  left  I  wormed  her  secret  out  of  her — poor  child! 
Poor  child!  These  Germans  are  so  full  of  emotion,  and  of  senti 
ment.  She  sat  quietly  telling  me  how  good  you  had  been  to  her 
— how  kind — as  if  you  were  dead  and  gone.  Well — I  cried,  and  I 
took  her  in  my  arms.  She  poured  her  heart  out  on  my  shoulder. 
And  I  told  her  that  she  must  not  grieve  so.  O  Harry!  the  poor 


204  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

girl_you  have  broken  her  heart.  She  stopped  trying  in  a  little 
while,  and  said  that  she  was  afraid  ever  to  see  you  again.  She 
had  made  up  her  mind,  and  she  was  going  to  be  with  her  sister, 
so  as  to  get  away  from  New  Haven — and  you !  " 

"Mother!  mother!  you  will  drive  me  crazy.  If  you  say  much 
more  I  will  jump  into  a  hack,  go  get  her,  and  hale  her  before  a 
clergyman  and  marry  her.  Do  you  wish  that?  I  tell  you  it  won't 
take  much  to  drive  me  into  it!  I'll  throw  up  my  life  at  Yale;  I'll 
go  and  heal  her  broken  heart,  if  you  tell  me  so.  JTfeel  her  sorrow 
as  much  as  you  do.  It  is  with  me  night  and  day.  If  she  was 
stronger,  harder,  less  dependent,  it  would  not  be  so  hard  on  me. 
Do  you  think  I  am  so  selfish?  I'll  give  up  my  life  and  make  her 
happy.  We  can  go  abroad.  I'm  willing.  Come,  decide!  " 

He  stood  up,  very  pale,  and  confronted  his  mother  with  folded 
arms.  She  admired  her  son  as  he  stood  there  before  her,  so  manly 
and  so  heroically  willing  to  repair  what  wrong  he  had  foolishly 
done  the  (not  entirely)  innocent  girl.  He  had  spent  many  bad 
half-hours  over  the  remembrance  of  Ella  Gerhart  that  vacation, 
for  he  began  to  realize  how  very  lovely  she  was,  and,  if  yielding, 
how  her  yielding  came  from  love  of  him. 

"I  have  done  wrong,"  he  insisted.  "It  was  worse  because  she 
was  poor,  because  she  was  more  at  my  mercy.  Ah,  mother,  she 
was  very  sweet!  But  if  you  think " 

"No!  But  I  want  you  to  see  this  thing  clearly  in  its  right  light 
and  the  harm  it  brings.  She  never^did  you  wrong.  Why  did  you 
go  out  of  your  way  to  persuade  her  to  love  yon  so — she,  a  poor 
working  girl?  I  spoke  of  it  to  your  Uncle  Dick.  He  said  it  was 
what  all  students  did;  it  was  'puppy  love.'  He  made  light  of  it.  I 
wish  he  could  have  seen  poor  Ella  this  afternoon,  her  face  like  that 
of  Beatrice  Cenci.  The  life  had  gone  out  of  it.  Do  all  students 
enjoy  spoiling  the  innocent  lives  of  these  poor  girls?  I  say  it's 
outrageous!  a  sin  and  a  shame!  Dick  Lyman  laughs  and  pretends 
it's  the  everyday  thing  with  students.  I  don't  say  these  are  the 
days  of  chivalry,  but  yet  I  do  say  that,  as  regards  all  that  class  of 
poor  girls  who  are  forced  out  into  the  world  to  earn  their  living, 
a  greater  duty  falls  on  all  honest,  right-minded  men  to  protect  and 


THE   SOPH    YEAR  BEGINS.  205 

befriend  them.  Oh,  my  dear  boy !  perhaps  I  feel  too  deeply  and 
say  too  much,  but  I  have  just  come  from  her.  I  can't  bear  to 
think  that  you  have  taken  advantage  of  her  helplessness — 

"  Of  course  I  never  have,"  he  replied  indignantly.  "  Oh  !  I  know 
I've  done  wrong — I  deserve  it  all.  But  I  will  say  this  for  myself 
— that  I  did  believe  I  was  in  love.  I  couldn't  resist  her.  I've 
acted  as  squarely  as  I  knew  how.  I  never  promised  to  marry  her." 

"  No — I  presume  not !  " 

"We  just  drifted  together  and  then  apart.  I  wouldn't  harm 
her  for  the  world.  You  know  I  wouldn't!  " 

Mrs.  Chestleton,  as  the  reader  may  have  surmised,  was  a  woman 
of  high  sense  of  her  duty,  and  she  felt  deeply  the  affair  of  Ella 
Gerhart — perhaps  too  deeply.  She  made  too  little  allowance  for 
"the  time  of  golden  youth,"  when  love  springs  up  every  hour  and 
day,  and  students,  with  their  freedom  from  care  and  their  peculiar 
monastic  life,  are  especially  susceptible  to  female  charms.  She 
was  a  woman  who,  once  having  said  her  "say,"  was  apt  to  turn 
about  and  be  very  kind  and  lenient.  She  now  made  Harry  sit  by 
her,  and  she  kissed  him  and  petted  him  and  told  him  how  much  he 
was  to  her  and  how  she  saw,  as  he  grew  older,  that  he  was  just 
exactly  like  his  father.  "  It  may  be  that  Ella  Gerhart  will,  after 
a  time,  marry  too,  and  forget  you,  and  I  don't  think  you  were  to 
blame — only  you  were  thoughtless.  Let  it  be  a  lesson.  Every 
woman,  Harry,  young  or  old,  is  more  or  less  weak  and  defenseless. 
I  would  like  you  and  your  fellows  to  take  a  new  view  of  our  sex — 
a  more  chivalrous  view.  I — I  keep  thinking  of  Kitty  alone — out 
in  the  world !" 

"Mother,  don't!"  groaned  Harry. 

"1  must  speak,"  she  went  on.  "A  new  era  is  dawning  for 
women.  They  will  have  more  and  more  opportunities  for  earning 
a  living.  They  need  more  and  more  the  highest,  finest,  most 
chivalrous  protection,  since  the  protecting  influences  of  home  are 
taken  from  them.  The  old  idea  that  they  are  'lawful  prey  '  is 
hideously  barbarous.  It  is  cruel,  wicked — don't  deny  it!  It's 
brutal — I  want  my  boy  to  see  that  it  is — it  is  cruel  to  make  love 
and  not  mean  it.  It's  simply  contemptible!  " 


2O6 


COLLEGE   DA  VS. 


"I  don't  think  it's  the  college  view  at  all." 

"  No,  perhaps  not  among  all  the  swell  sets.     But  there  must  be 

a  great  number  of  good  boys,  too,  who  are  not  so  worldly-minded. 

I  would  like  to  get  up 
into  that  chapel  pulpit 
and  preach  a  sermon  or 
two.  You  can  depend 
upon  it,  I  wouldn't 
waste  two  hours  over  a 
minute  question  about 
the  origin  of  the  Pen 
tateuch  ! " 

When  the  chums,  ac 
companied  by  Jim  Dan- 
forth,  saw  the  mother 
and  daughter  off  at  the 
station,  Mrs.  Chestleton 
cried  a  little  at  part 
ing,  and  told  Harry  that 
she  had  not  meant  to  be 
too  severe.  "  But  you 
are  present  with  me  day 
and  night,  Harry ;  I  am 
thinking  about  you  all 
the  time.  Oh,  a  girl! 
She  grows  up  of  her  own 
self.  She  never  seems 
to  want  to  go  wrong 
— but  a  boy!  Mercy! 

they  seem  to  be  forever  trembling  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice." 
Harry  smiled  and  kissed  her.     Danforth,  who  had  brought  a 

pretty  parting  gift  of  a  bouquet  for  Kitty,  said  afterward,  "By 

Jove,  1  wish  I  had   such  a  mother!     Why,  Harry,  your  parting 

from  her  seemed  to  me  like — lovers !  " 

"She  is  my  good  angel,"  said  Harry,  with  a  sigh— "only  I  wish 

she  wasn't  quite  so  good  !  " 


THAT  NIGHT,  IN  HIS  MAIL,  HARRY  FOUND  A 
LITTLE  ENVELOPE. 


THE    SOPH    YEAR   BEGINS.  207 

The  next  day  but  one  Harry,  full  of  pity  and  goodness  of  heart, 
went  up  to  call  on  Ella  Gerhart.  She  had  left  that  very  day  to 
join  her  sister's  company.  They  had  gone  to  play  in  a  "bur 
lesque"  at  Pittsburg.  That  night,  in  his  mail,  Harry  found  a  little 
envelope  directed  in  Ella's  well-known  cramped  little  hand.  It 
contained  some  rather  melancholy  printed  verses  she  had  cut  out 
from  some  periodical;  that  was  all: 

"  How  badly  is  the  course  of  life  adjusted, 
That  where  sweet  roses  bloom  sharp  thorns  abound  ; 
What  though  the  heart  lias  clearly,  fondly  trusted, 
The  hour  of  parting  will  at  last  come  round. 
Of  thy  fond  glances  once  I  read  the  meaning  ; 
They  spoke  of  joy  and  happiness  for  me. 
God  bless  thee,  love  !  it  was  but  idle  dreaming  ; 
God  bless  thee,  love  !  it  was  not  so  to  be. 

I  dreamt  of  peace  and  hours  of  tranquil  pleasure, 
When  unto  thee  my  pathway  led  me  nigh  ; 
Then  through  my  soul  a  flash  of  joy  went  gleaming, 
Fain  would  f  pledge  my  youthful  life  to  thee. 
God  bless  thee,  love  !  it  was  but  idle  dreaming  ; 
God  bless  thee,  love  !  it  was  not  so  to  be." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

BOGEY     IS     HAZED. 

npHE  sophomore  year  is  usually  a  repeti- 
JL  tion  of  freshman  year  in  the  warfare 
between  the  two  lower  classes.  It  is 
not  always  that  the  sophs  are  the  insti 
gators  of  the  mischief.  Sometimes  fresh 
men  are  very  bold  and  obstreperous,  and 
require  disciplining.  Fagging,  such  as 
Tom  Brown  at  Rugby  knew,  never 
obtained  at  Yale,  even  in  the  last  cen 
tury,  because  in  America  "even  the  boys 
were  independent  and  proud  and  full  of 
personal  pride  and  manfulness."  *  They  were  more  obsequious 
than  at  the  present  day  to  upper-class  men,  touched  their  caps  (all 
wore  caps  in  college,  except  seniors,  in  those  early  days)  and 
probably  ran  on  a  few  errands,  but  no  one  had  his  especial  fag, 
or  servant,  among  the  freshmen.  The  institution  of  hazing  dates 
from  time  immemorial.  Doubtless  freshmen  always  have  been 
very  green,  and  always  fell  a  prey  to  fun-loving  students.  It  is 
often  the  young  lad's  first  venture  from  "home  and  mother." 
Nowadays  the  lad  so  often  goes  away  to  a  preparatory  school, 
where  he  learns  a  great  deal  about  college  life,  that  he  never  comes 
to  pass  his  entrance  examination  for  college  quite  an  ignoramus. 

There  came  to  college  in  the  class  of  Umpty-five  a  young  chap 
by  the  name  of  Bogey,  whom  our  sophomore  crowd  claimed  to  be 
greener  and  more  ridiculous  than  even  Lambda  Chi  Briggs  ever 
thought  of  being.  Barney  said  himself  that  that  "red-haired 

*  See  Letters  of  Lafayette,  1804. 
208 


BOGEY  IS  HAZED.  209 

yowling  terror  of  a  freshman,  Bogey,  orter  be  took  down  an'  a  reef 
took  in  his  sails." 

He  lived  (as  alF  freshmen  were  compelled  to  do,  owing  to  lack 
of  dormitories)  in  a  boarding-house  on  Elm  Street.  There  were 
several  other  freshmen  in  the  house,  and  the  plan  was  adopted  one 
night,  to  quietly  get  into  Bogey's  room,  then  lock  everyone  else 
out,  and  fumigate  the  freshman  to  their  hearts'  content. 

About  9:30  o'clock  one  night  in  November  half  a  dozen  sophs 
stole  out  of  old  South  Middle.  Each  had  a  clay  pipe  and  plenty 
of  tobacco.  Arrived  on  the  street,  near  Bogey's  boarding-house, 
they  put  on  black  masks. 

Harry  was  expecting  to  go  on  this  expedition  to  Bogey's  room, 
but  Harding  sent  for  him,  as  there  was  to  be  a  baseball  consulta 
tion  in  the  captain's  room,  in  South,  over  a  proposition  from  Har 
vard  to  play  three  games  next  year  instead  of  one  only.  Steele 
was  in  the  crowd — quite  changed  from  freshman  year,  too,  for  he 
had  succeeded  in  m'owinsr  a  formidable  mustache. 

o  o 

They  strolled  along  the  brick  sidewalks  two  by  two.  Presently 
Ritch  struck  up 

Room,  boys,  room  ! 

By  the  light  of  the  moon  ! 

Isn't  this  a  jolly  night  to  find  your  way  home  ! 

and  they  all  joined.  As  they  passed  a  freshman's  window  they 
sang  out:  "Put  out  that  light,  freshy  !  " 

And  generally  a  window  flew  up,  a  freshman's  head  flew  out, 
and  a  taunting  reply  was  flung  after  them. 

"It's  a  red-hot,  cheeky  class,"  said  Steele,  "and  it  needs  to  be 
<tuk  down,'  as  Barney  says." 

"But  if  you  think  we're  going  to  have  a  picnic  or  an  easy  time 
with  Bogey,  you're  mistaken,"  spoke  up  Jack  hotly.  "There'll  be 
two  freshmen  to  every  one  of  us.  It's  a  fitjht  from  the  word  'go.' 

*J 

It's  no  soft  snap.  Bogey  knows  we're  after  him.  Depend  upon 
it,  it  will  be  a  tough  old  'hit-from-the-shoulder'  row.  I'm  glad 
we've  all  got  on  our  'mud'  clothes.  All  the  night-rushes  put 
together  this  year  won't  equal  to-night — mark  my  word !  There's 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


Stillman,  who  Bob  Clark  says  shall  go  straight  onto  the  'varsity 
crew — he's  a  young  ox — the  strongest  man  at  Andover  last  year 
— he  rooms  in  the  same  house." 

"Yes,  and  there  is  McCullogh,  the  freshman  single  sculler,  who 
is  captain  of  their  crew;  he  lives  there,  too,"  said  Ritch,  "and 

they  say  he  swears 
he'll  get  even  for  the 
rough  initiation  we 
gave  him  into  Delta 
Kap.  So  get  ready, 
boys!  It's  to  be  a 
scrimmage  —  and  AVC 
may  get  left." 

They  heard  foot 
steps,  of  some  one  on 
the  run,  behind  them. 
"Stop  him  if  he's 
'fresh'!"  whispered 
Jack.  It  was  Cas- 
well. 

"Why  didn't  you 
tell  me  of  this?"  he 
sang  out,  out  of  breath. 
"I  went  up  to  your 
room,  Jack,  and  no 
one  was  there  but  lit 
tle  Nevers,  crouching 
down  before  the  fire  with  Stamp's  head  in  his  lap.  He  said  you 
were  all  out  after  Bogey,  and  were  bound  to  get  into  trouble- 
well,  I  thought  I'd  like  to  be  in  it,  too." 

"  We  thought  you  were  off  doing  the  society  racket  on  Temple 
Street,"  said  Jack,  alluding  to  a  dance  that  was  to  take  place  at 
the  residence  of  a  well-known  resident  of  New  Haven  that  night, 
to  which  he  was  not  invited. 

"Well,  I'll  take  that  in  later,"  said  Caswell  laughingly. 
Neither  he  nor  Holland  quite  occupied  the  place  in  Umpty-four 


"NO  ONE   WAS   THERE   BUT   LITTLE   NEVERS." 


BOGEY   IS   HAZED.  21 1 

they  had  filled  in  Umpty-three  a  year  ago.  Men  who  drop  back 
into  a  lower  class  are  seldom  quite  as  popular  as  they  were  in  their 
own.  lie  was  not  the  unmitigated  "terror  "  he  had  been,  however. 
At  first,  like  Paul  before  conversion,  he  had  gone  about  breathing 
threatenings  and  slaughter.  Then  he  had  openly  asserted  that  this 
rowing  between  classes  was  "brutal  "and  ought  to  be  abolished. 
It  really  astonished  Jack  and  his  friends  to  see  him  so  ready  to 
mingle  in  the  fray  once  more.  October  had  been  a  "rough-and- 
tumble  "  month.  There  was  a  rush  of  some  sort  nearly  every 
night.  Everyone  had  ready  his  "mud"  clothes,  adapted  to 
wrestling  'neath  the  dim  light  of  some  glimmering  street  lamp. 
The  days  of  "glorious  barbarities"  were  not  then  over.  The 
modern  sophomore  probably  looks  upon  such  long-continued  ani 
mosity  as  "  ungentlemanly  "  and  absurd.  The  days  whereof  we 
write  are  perhaps  passed  forever,  gentle  reader,  but,  while  they 
existed,  developed  a  certain  hardy  manhood,  and  kindled  a  certain 
sense  of  respect  for  personal  courage  and  "sand."  There  were  real 
heroes  in  those  days,  and  "Chestnuts,"  as  Harry  was  called,  was 
one  of  them. 

Presently  the  gallant  little  band  of  sophs — setting  out  on  the 
laudable  errand  of  smoking  out  the  freshman  Bogey — arrived  with 
in  close  proximity  to  the  latter's  boarding-house.  The  night  was 
not  very  dark,  and  they  drew  closely  together  in  the  friendly 
obscurity  of  an  alley  to  consult  as  to  the  best  method  of  approach. 
Should  they  boldly  go  up  in  a  body  or  one  at  a  time? 

It  was  decided  to  steal  up  softly,  and  yet  in  a  body,  in  Indian 
file.  So,  Jack  leading,  up  they  went — seven  maskers — bent  on 
their  fell  design.  At  the  top  of  the  stairs,  as  luck  would  have 
it,  two  freshmen  happened  to  be  coming  down.  They  imme 
diately  ran  back  upstairs,  shouting  "Lambda  Chi !"  at  the  top  of 
their  lungs.  Of  course,  Jack  and  the  sophs  hurried  up,  and  burst 
ing  into  Bogey's  room,  hastily  slammed  the  door  to.  Bogey 
looked  up  from  where  he  sat.  When  he  realized  what  was  going 
on,  he  hurled  text-book,  lexicon,  and  patent  framework  at  the 
heads  of  the  sophs  and  made  a  break  for  a  window.  He  was 
quick  as  a  cat  and  strong  as  a  colt,  but  h?  wasn't  too  quick  for 


212  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Jack  to  nab  him  and  trip  him  up.  Ho  began  to  shout  like  a  shrill 
newsboy:  "Umpty-five!  Umpty-five!  Look  alive!" 

"See  here,  freshman,  shut  up!"  said  Caswell  sternly.  "Your 
doom  is  sealed,  and  you  had  better  make  your  peace  with  Heaven, 
and  die  in  quiet." 

Bogey  at  once  kicked  the  harder  and  yelled  the  louder.  As  the 
freshmen  were  by  this  time  trying  to  break  in  the  heavy  door  of 
the  room,  Jack  left  Caswell  to  hold  Bogey,  and  joined  the  others 
in  sustaining  the  barricade.  Very  heavy  pressure  was  being 
brought  to  bear  outside. 

Meanwhile  Caswell  was  having  all  he  could  do  to  hold  Bogey. 
Jack  pounced  on  Bogey  and  tied  his  hands  behind  him  with  a 
strap  he  had  brought  for  the  purpose — and  he  was  harmless. 

Bang — thump — bang !  It  shook  the  whole  house !  Would  the 
door  resist  that  attack? 

"A  nice  brave  lot  you  are — seven  on  to  one!"  laughed  Bogey. 
"Oh,  I  know  you,  and  we  fellows  in  Umpty-five  will  make  your 
life  miserable,  Mr.  Caswell!" 

"Shut  up,  freshman!" — in  sepulchral  tones. 

All  proceeded  to  light  their  pipes,  taking  care  to  blow  their 
clouds  of  smoke  always  in  Bogey's  direction.  Presently  the 
room  was  dense  and  thick  with  smoke,  so  that  you  could  cut  it 
with  a  knife.  The  banging  at  the  door  ceased,  and  Jack  correctly 
surmised  that  the  freshmen  had  gone  in  search  of  some  heavy 
article  which  they  could  use  as  a  battering-ram. 

"Say,  see  here,"  coughed  poor  Bogey  in  the  dense  smoke  of 
seven  puffing  pipes,  "  you'd  better  get  out  of  here.  My  class  will 
be  back  here  a  hundred  strong  in  five  minutes " 

"Freshman,  sing  a  song!"  called  out  a  mask,  solemnly. 

Bogey,  coughing  and  swearing,  sang: 

"  When  freshman— first  I  came— to  Yale 

ALL.    Fol— de  rol— de  roll— rol  rol !  " 

When  Bogey  got  through  sputtering  and  stammering  out  his 
song,  they  called  on  him  for  a  speech;  this  is  what  they  had  to 
endure; 


ALL  i'ltOCKEDEJJ   TO   LIGHT   T1IK1K   1'U'ES, 


2i4  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

"Gentlemen  of  the  great  class  of  Umpty-four: 

"At  this  entirely  unexpected  and,  I  assure  you,  gentlemen, 
entirely  unsolicited  honor,  my  feelings  nearly  overcome  me.  That 
7,  a  humble  freshman,  only  lately  from  the  'wild  and  woolly,' 
should  be  singled  out  to  be  offered  incense  to  as  a  god,  completely 
unmans  me.  I  am  too  well  aware  that  Umpty-four  is  low  down 
enough  to  worship  almost  anything  in  the  firmament  [murmurs  of 
rage],  but  that  they  should  select  poor  unpretending  me  passes  the 
wonders  of  the  times." 

"See  here,  freshman,  don't  think  too  small  pumpkins  of  your 
self — it  isn't  like  you,"  growled  Coles.  Meanwhile  the  smoke 
grew  thicker  and  thicker,  so  that  poor  Bogey  was  all  but  invisible 
in  the  cloud. 

"Go  on!  Go  on!"  they  shouted. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  I  will  go  on.  I'm  no  hog  on  smoke,  though, 
nor  ham  either,  and  if  you  prefer  smoked  herring  you  can  get  it 
cheap  down  at  the  corner  grocery.  Perhaps  you  take  me  for  a 
Yarmouth  bloater — but  I  can  tell  you  right  here  and  now,  I  don't 
intend  to  bloat  Avorth  a  cent.  Why,  I'm  used  to  smoke — lived  in 
a  ham-curing  establishment  in  Cincinnati  three  years." 

Jim  Danforth,  who  ordinarily  was  rather  a  quiet  performer  at 
these  hazing  performances,  at' this  speech  gave  the  table  a  kick, 
and  down  came  Bogey  in  a  heap.  Jack  caught  him  in  his  arms. 
He  was  pale  and  sick  and  dizzy. 

"I'm  knocked  out,"  he  gasped.  Jack  carried  him  to  a  window, 
and  opening  it,  placed  Bogey's  limp  form  across  the  sill. 

Meanwhile  the  sophs  were  made  painfully  aware  that  the  fresh 
men  had  returned  with  re-enforcements.  They  had  procured  a 
heavy  beam  as  a  battering-ram,  by  means  of  which  the  door  began 
to  give  signs  of  falling  inward.  Caswell  danced  up  and  down  at 
every  thump  now.  He  fairly  ached  in  his  excitement  for  the  row 
that  was  to  come. 

Ritch  was  for  jumping  out  of  the  window  into  the  soft  flower 
beds  below,  but  Caswell  would  not  hear  of  it.  "Let  them  be 
twenty— thirty  to  one!"  he  shouted— for  the  noise  was  now  very 
great— what  do  we  care?— we're  going  out  of  that  door  and  down 


BOGEY  IS  HAZED.  215 

the  stairs  and  out  like  gentlemen !"  At  the  instant  the  hinges 
flew  off  the  door,  and  it  fell  inward  over  the  furniture  they  had 
piled  up  against  it  with  a  mighty  crash.  Stilwell  was  the  first 
freshman  to  leap  over  the  debris.  Jack  and  Dan  forth  caught  him, 
whirled  him  to  a  window,  and  threw  him  out.  It  was  now  hit  from 
the  shoulder,  hot  and  heavy.  Jack  and  his  friends  got  their  backs 
up  to  the  wall  and  knocked  down  freshmen  as  they  came  up,  as  if 
they  were  nine-pins.  The  freshmen  were  tough  and  strong,  but 
had  little  science.  They  surged  about  the  sophs,  yelling  and 
swearing  to  kill  them.  But  the  sophs  slowly  beat  a  retreat,  not 
without  many  a  blow.  Down  the  stairs  they  went  fighting  and 
shouting,  and  out  into  the  street.  Here  a  great  crowd  of 
"townies"  had  gathered,  and  two  policemen  came  running  up, 
waving  their  clubs,  and  threatening  to  arrest  every  mother's  son. 
Instantly  fresh  and  soph  turned  on  the  "peelers."  The  "townies" 
joined  in  the  cause  of  the  latter,  and  it  was  now  "Yale  against  the 
town." 

A  huge  "towny,"  well  known  as  an  ex-prizefighter,  a  boxing 
teacher,  and  a  man  who  hung  about  Gradley's  bar-room  waiting 
for  odd  jobs,  came  running  up,  and  taking  in  the  situation,  fought 
on  the  students'  side,  lie  didn't  care  very  much  ichorn  he  hit, 
provided  he  hit  something,  and  he  bowled  over  one  or  two 
students  by  accident.  It  was  now.  a  great  fight  all  along  the  line. 
Caswell  was  knocked  senseless  and  his  head  cut  open  by  a  heavy 
stone,  and  then  came  the  well-known  cry  of  "Faculty!" 
"Faculty!" 

Ritch  came  running  up.  "They've  arrested  Coles!"  he  cried. 
"Shall  it  be  a  rescue?-  Four  peelers  are  walking  him  down  across 
the  green  to  the  City  Hall!" 

Others  came  up.  Jack  and  Jim  Danforth  and  Ritch  started  on 
a  run  between  the  chapel  and  Xorth  Middle,  across  College  Street 
cross  lots  to  where  poor  unfortunate  Coles  was  dragged.  On  the 
edge  of  the  crowd  was  a  stocky,  well-built  young  man  who  seemed 
to  be  prowling  about  as  with  an  object — a  serious  object — in  view. 

"By  gad,  Harry!  it's  you,  is  it?"  cried  Ritch  as  they  came  up. 
"Oh!  we've  had  a  time!" 


216  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"Hush!  I  know,"  said  Harry;  "I  just  came  out  of  Harding's 
room  and  heard  the  racket.  They've  got  Coles— and  there  will  be 
the  divil's  own  time  if  they  lock  him  up.  The  faculty  will  visit 
on  him  the  whole  affair— especially  if  it  leaks  out  he  was  in  your 
hazing  crowd.  They  will  expel  him." 

Harry  had  taken  in  the  situation  quickly.  Coles  was  watching. 
When  they  dropped  his  arms  to  pass  the  gate,  he  dropped  on  his 
hands,  and  the  peeler  in  the  rear  received  a  stinging  blow  behind 
the  ear  from  Harry's  right.  It  stunned  him,  and  Coles  got  away 
like  a  deer.  Harry  walked  leisurely  away  as  if  nothing  had 
happened. 

"It's  him  that  struck  yes! "  pointed  out  a  small  "towny." 

Harry  quietly  took  off  his  coat.  The  peelers  started  for  him, 
but  he  spurted  off  in  the  direction  of  old  Trinity  Church  and  was 
soon  out  of  harm's  way.  Coles  made  a  wide  circuit,  and  in  ten 
minutes  was  in  his  room  and  in  bed,  and  then  up  and  out  again 
half  an  hour  later.  One  by  one  all  the  sophs  dropped  back  very 
quietly  to  South  Middle.  The  great  row  was  so  far  over,  and — 
best  of  all — no  one  appeared  to  be  caught. 

As  if  there  had  not  been  noise  and  confusion  enough  already  for 
one  night,  a  great  crowd  had  gathered  at  the  fence,  principally  to 
guy  and  chaff  a  lot  of  townies  who  were  standing  opposite  the 
fence  over  in  front  of  what  was  then  known  as  Toadley's.  Every 
old  Yale  man  will  remember  the  way  Toadley  used  to  bawl  down 
the  dumb-waiter,  "  Two  eggs  on  toast !  "  and  then  sneak  down 
stairs  and  cook  them,  as  he  was  his  own  cook  and  bottle-washer! 
Toadley  lived  principally  on  cold  hard-boiled  eggs,  in  the  rear  end 
of  his  little  store.  He  was  terribly  dyspeptic  in  consequence,  and 
the  disturbance  in  front  of  his  place  caused  him  to  be  mortally 
fearful  lest  one  of  his  front  store  windows  should  be  broken  in. 
He  was  tall,  lean,  and  lank.  He  came  out  and  expostulated  with 
the  crowd,  and  advised  and  prayed  them  to  go  home  "for  the  love 
of  God ! " 

Presently  it  seemed  as  if  everyone  in  college  had  come  out  on 
the  campus  at  the  fence.  '  Classes  intermingled.  It  was  now 
"Yale  against  the  town."  All  the  good  singers  of  every  class 


BOGEY  IS  HAZED.  217 

gathered  in  the  fence  corner,  where  the  sopli  fence  joined  the  junior, 
and  the  good  old  songs  echoed  high  beneath  the  elms.  Such  grand 
music  from  a  thousand  throats!  "Lauriger  Horatius,  Upidee, 
Cocahehmk,  Bingo, "etc.  But  singing  was  not  enough.  Presently 
from  out  of  the  darkness  came  barrels,  boxes,  sticks  of  timber, 
bundles  of  hay  and  straw,  and  dumped  themselves  together  beneath 
the  high-drooping  elms.  Fifty  bright,  intelligent  young  men 
were  carefully  searching  the  backyards  of  the  peaceful  citizens  of 
New  Haven  for  fuel. 

A  number  of  sophs  poured  a  tin  can  of  kerosene  on  the  pile  of 
debris  and  touched  it  off.  The  flames  caught  the  light  tinder  and 
the  oil,  and  rose  high  in  the  air.  A  splendid  blaze  soon  lit  up 
Chapel  Street  as  far  as  Temple,  and  flickered  against  the  white 
facade  of  the  old  State  House.* 

Sophs  and  fresh  joined  hands  and  danced  madly  round  and 
round  the  flames.  Does  not  every  alumnus  recall  such  jolly 
scenes?  Every  now  and  then  parties  would  come  triumphantly  in 
bearing  some  empty  barrels  and  bundles  of  odd  pieces  of  timber, 
which  they  would  throw  on  the  flames.  Presently  a  keg  of  beer 
protruded  itself  through  the  fence.  Whence  it  came,  who  brought 
it,  no  one  knew.  But  it  was  there  all  the  same. 

Just  when  the  fun,  which  had  sprung  out  of  nothing — for  things 
often  go  that  way  in  college — was  fast  and  furious,  came  the  omi 
nous  cry,  "Faculty!  Faculty!" 

Professor  Timster,  with  a  notebook  in  hand,  came  stalking 
across  the  campus  from  Elm  Street.  Professor  Maynard,  envel 
oped  in  a  long  black  cloak,  came  prowling  around  the  corner  of 
South  College.  Tutor  Dilworthy,  looking  very  sleepy  and  never 
known  to  report  a  student  for  any  sort  of  misdemeanor,  came  out 
of  his  entry,  and  Tutor  Smile  (whom  the  students  hated)  out  of  his. 
There  wras  a  grand  scattering  of  all  but  a  few  juniors  and  seniors, 
who  bravely  sat  on  their  fence,  each  one  having,  of  course,  a  mens 
conscia  recti.  Professor  Timster  stalked  straight  up  to  the  beer 
keg  and  turned  the  spigot,  sc  that  it  should  empty  itself  to  no  good 

*  The  bonfire  would  have  done  some  damage  to-day  if  lit  in  the  same  place 
in  Osborne  Hall. 


2l8 


COLLEGE  DAYS. 


A   FORAGE    FOR    FUEL. 


purpose  on  the  ground.  A  groan  went  up  from  the  juniors. 
Other  members  of  the  faculty  appeared,  and  everything  became 
quiet  as  death. 

The  rnoon,  which  was  struggling  through  a  bunch   of   clouds, 


BOGEY  IS  HAZED.  219 

threw  down  a  pale,  flickering  light.  The  campus  was  nearly 
deserted  now.  Tutor  Smile  approached  his  entry  in  Old  South. 

Suddenly  someone  darted  past  him  and  seized  his  notebook.  He 
grabbed  the  fellow,  and  the  next  instant  found  himself  whirling  in 
the  air,  and  then  dumped  on  the  ground  "in  a  very  undignified  and 
unwarranted  position,"  as  he  related  in  faculty  meeting  next  day. 

Unluckily  Jack's  cap  fell  off  in  the  scuffle.  Inside  were  his 
initials,  "J.  C.  R.  Umpty-f'our."  Tutor  Smile  picked  it  up 
dazedly,  and  went  up  to  his  room. 

Jack  ran  around  the  old  Lyceum  and  into  north  entry,  South 
Middle,  before  he  became  aware  of  his  loss.  He  went  back,  but 
no  one  was  to  be  seen. 

"If  Tutor  Smile  has  got  that  cap,  I'm  done,"  he  said  to  himself, 
with  a  sinking  heart.  He  looked  at  the  torn  notebook  in  his 
hand,  then  went  back  meditatively  to  his  room.  Harry  and  Stamp 
were  sitting  up  eating  crackers,  and  Harry  was  drinking  beer. 

"A  big  night,  Jack!  "  said  he;  "a  great  night  for  old  Yale!  " 

"Yes,  and  a  sorry  one  for  me — 

"How  so — you  weren't  spotted  for  hazing  Boge}^  or  the  street 
fight  afterward?" 

"No,  but  Smile  has  just  spotted  me.  I  snatched  his  notebook. 
Here  it  is — lots  of  fellows  will  get  off  with  a  warning;  but  he 
grabbed  me  and  I  threw  him — and  my  cap  fell  off,  as  luck  would 
have  it — he's  got  it !  " 

"By  Jove!"  Harry  whistled. 

"I  went  back,  and  the  cap  was  gone.  He's  picked  it  up,  and  my 
initials  are  in  it.  You  remember  Kitty  sewed  them  in  on  a  blue 
ribbon  last  summer — on  Long  Island." 

Jack  sank  down  on  the  sofa,  and  Stamp  jumped  up  and  licked 
his  face  affectionately. 

"Dear  old  dog!  "  said  Jack,  "I  guess  we'll  have  a  chance  to  see 
a  bit  of  rural  Connecticut  shortly,  for  I  shall  be  rusticated  sure!  " 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

TUTOR    bMILE. 

UTOR  ALPHONZO  SMILE  was  an 

ungracious,  hairy,  red -bearded  little  man, 
possessed  of  no  tact  whatever,  and  who 
curried  favor  with  the  faculty  by  spying 
out  and  reporting  delinquencies  which  were 
of  no  consequence  whatever.  Doubtless  he  meant  to  do  what  was 
right — but  he  had  a  "durned  queer  way  of  showing  it"  as  old 
Grannis  frequently  observed.  He  had  come  down  from  a  small 
mean  little  up-country  Connecticut  village — and  he  was  a  small 
mean  little  man.  In  college  he  had  been  a  pious  "dig,"  rarely 
mingling  with  his  classmates,  and  in  his  two  later  years  assuming 
the  position  of  monitor,  a  position  which  to  his  spying  mean 
little  eyes  was  exactly  what  he  was  fitted  to.  His  own  class  raked 
him  mercilessly  on  class  day,  for  being  the  means  of  getting 
one  of  their  most  popular  men  suspended. 

As  tutor  of  Umpty-four,  he  soon  made  himself  as  unpopular  as 
it  was  possible  to  be.  His  windows  in  old  South  were  often  most 
mysteriously  broken,  and  in  celebrating  the  great  victory  over 
Harvard  the  summer  previous,  at  Springfield,  a  skyrocket  entirely 
by  accident  flew  straight  through  his  window  curtains,  into  his 
room — he  was  absent  fortunately — and  burst  in  a  blaze  of  glory 
against  his  mantelpiece. 

Such  little  attentions  on  part  of  his  friends,  the  students,  made 
Tutor  Smile  like  Evalena  when  she  caught  a  porgie  as  the  old  song 
says,  "infernally  mad,"  and  the  madder  he  became  the  more  silly 
and  ridiculous  jokes  were  played  on  him.  They  nailed  up  his 
recitation  room  door;  they  dropped  red  pepper  on  his  stove;  they 
tarred  his  chair  and  desks;  they  wore  crape  on  their  arms  at  his 


TUTOR    SMILE.  221 

recitations;  they  had  telegrams  marked  "Rush"  and  "Urgent" 
delivered  to  him  by  messenger  boys  during  recitation  hour,  an 
nouncing  his  election  to  a  professorship  of  Bricklaying  in  Kams- 
chatka  University :  they  sent  him  anonymous  notes  warning  him 
that  he  would  be  buried  alive  some  night,  up  to  his  chin,  on  the 
campus,  and  left  there  to  greet  early  morning  chapel  goers  next 
day! — if- he  did  not  turn  over  a  new  leaf — so  that,  full  of  "threat- 
enings  and  slaughter,"  Tutor  Smile  went  prowling  about  under  the 
elms,  "spotting"  men's  names  in  his  notebook.  The  "divil"or 
some  evil  "diabolological  "  fiend  inspired  Jack  to  run  up  behind 
him  suddenly  and  snatch  his  book  out  of  his  hand.  lie  fancied, 
guilelessly,  that  it  would  be  just  the  "boss"  thing  to  do  to  wind 
up  that  glorious  old  "Yale  Night,"  and  then  go  to  bed  and  sleep 
the  sleep  of  the  pious  and  honest  "soph"  till  the  chapel  bell  rang 
him  up  in  the  morning.  Alas,  poor  Jack ! 

When  next  morning  came  Tutor  Alphonzo  Smile  awoke  with 
aching  bones. 

Oh,  Tutor  Smile  is  full  of  guile  ! 

But  he  gets  come  up  with  once  in  a  while  ! 

These  wicked  words  of  the  doggerel  chorus  rang  in  his  ears 
too — he'd  heard  them  sung  outside  his  Avindows  quite  too  often  of 
late.  Noio  he'd  have  his  revenge.  He  laid  Jack's  natty  little  cap 
with  the  letters  "  J.  C.  jft.,  Umpty-four"  so  tastefully  sewed  in 
the  lining,  before  him  on  the  table.  "John  C.  Rives — I  know 
the  rascal!  I'm  not  sure  but  he  wrote  the  verses  about  me  which 
they  are  always  singing.  Threw  me  down,  did  he?  Well  the 
faculty  will  surely  expel  him — it's  a  terrible  misdemeanor — the 
whole  faculty  will  certainly  resent  an  insult  of  this  gross  nature  to 
one  of  their  own  body" — 

And  the  Tutor's  Smile 
Was  full  of  guile  ! 

He  walked  over  to  his  breakfast  and  thence  to  morning  prayers 
full  of  his  terrible  secret.  Yes,  Rives  of  Umpty-four  should  be 
expelled ! 


222        .  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

But  the  day  passed  without  a  word  from  the  faculty.  Old 
Grannis  was  very  much  disturbed.  "It's  all  because  I  was  off 
singing  bass  up  there  in  Linonia  Hall  and  the  glee  club,"  he  said 
regretfully,  "or  I'd  been  with  you,  Jack,  and  taken  care  of  you. 
It  made  me  so  tired  singing  all  the  evening  that  I  came  home  with 
Nevers  and  we  went  down  to  Mory's,  had  a  rarebit,  and  a  mug 
of  Bass,  and  came  home  to  bed.  We  heard  a  lot  of  noise,  but  we 
didn't  think  it  was  a  town  and  gown  row — our  room  looking  out 
on  the  west,  we  didn't  know  anything  about  the  boiifire.  But 
Tutor  Smile  is  a  cad.  He'll  be  sure  and  report  you,  and  I  don't 
see  but  what  they'll  have  to  do  something  to  you.  You  laid  hands 
on  him  and  'dumped'  him!" 

"I  had  that  satisfaction,"  laughed  Jack  ruefully.  "It  wasn't 
much,  but  it  was  something — and  I  got  his  book.  He  had  Guth- 
rie  and  Murdock  down — juniors,  think  of  it!  and  Bixby,  a  senior 
— gad!  think  of  that  heavy  swell  being  'up  for  it'!  He  had  Bob 
Clark's  name  down  too,  though  Bob  was  only  walking  across  the 
campus  to  his  room.  Bellamy  Storrs'  name  was  down,  too,  and 
poor  Baby  Finck  of  our  class,  who  hasn't  got  over  his  rush  in 
freshman  year  yet,  and  was  only  out  to  see  the  fun.  Lambda  Chi 
Briggs  was  down,  and  rightly,  because  he  stole  Prexy  Stout's  front 
gate,  they  say,  for  the  bonfire.  Stranahan  too — lots  of  juniors 
who  were  singing  harmlessly  at  the  fence.  Bullock  was  down, 
too.  Strange  how  you  never  hear  of  Bullock  now,  and  first  term 
freshman  year  he  was  the  'coming  '  boating  man — but  they  are 
safe  now,  unless  Tutor  Smile  thinks  fit  to  remember  them.  But  I 
think  he'll  only  bend  all  his  energies  to  bouncing  me.  He  hates 
me  anyway — and  now  he's  got  his  inning." 

So  all  that  day  they  heard  nothing,  and  the  next  day  came.  It 
was  a  Wednesday,  and  on  Wednesday  afternoons  took  place  those 
solemn  conclaves  so  pregnant  with  fate  to  students— the  weekly 
faculty  meetings. 

Hetherington  dropped  in  their  room  that  morning,  and  they  told 
him  of  Jack's  scrape,  and  asked  his  advice.  He  was  looking 
cleaner  and  better.  He  said  that  he  had  sworn  off  from  all  "hard" 
drinks  for  three  months,  and  had  hopes  of  sticking  to  it.  Some  of 


TUTOR   SMILE.  223 

his  classmates  were  interesting  themselves  in  getting  him  a  Greek 
professorship  in  a  new  Western  University  in  California.  "Oh, 
they've  tried  to  do  this  before,"  he  said  sadly,  "But  as  soon  as 
any  inquiry  is  made  here,  in  New  Haven,  they  give  me  away. 
They  say  I'm  an  'habitual  drunkard' — and  so  I  am.  Yet  I  think 
if  I  could  only  get  away  from  New  Haven,  and  go  West,  I  might 
do  better." 

Harry  and  Jack  expressed  their  commiseration.  It  was  really 
very  sad.  "Dear  old  Professor  Shepard,  one  of  the  noblest  men 
that  ever  lived,  has  always  been  my  friend,"  said  Iletherington. 
"But  others  on  the  faculty  naturally  distrust  me." 

They  told  him  that  he  ought  to  go  away,  change  his  name,  and 
begin  life  over  again  somewhere.  "How  should  I  live?  "  he  asked. 
"Professor  Black  helps  me  a  good  deal.  He  gives  me  a  lot  of 
Greek  work  on  his  new  grammar  to  do.  I  make  ten  dollars  a  week 
out  of  it.  Oh,  Black's  very  kind  to  me.  Students  he  hates — they 
bore  him  dreadfully.  He  ought  never  to  try  to  teach;  he  doesn't 
know  how.  It's  a  great  knack,  teaching;  few  possess  it.  They 
don't  know  what  it  means  at  Yale — this  class-room  business  is  of 
little  use  to  a  student.  They  pump  out  all  the  time,  when  it  strikes 
me  they  ought  to  pump  in." 

They  asked  Iletherington  what  Jack  had  better  do. 

"Do  nothing,"  he  said.  "If  they  send  for  you  to-day  it  means 
bad  business.  It  means  they  will  vote  on  your  expulsion.  The 
reason  they  send  for  you  is  that  they  want  to  give  you  a  fair  hear 
ing — a  sort  of  inquisition.  It  is  the  French  inquisitorial  process; 
utterly  opposed  to  our  common  law  practice.  In  all  our  courts 
a  criminal  is  not  to  be  deemed  guilty  until  so  proven,  nor  is  he 
without  counsel.  To-day  they'll  hold  a  meeting,  and  as  I  say,  if 
your  case  comes  up,  and  they  think  it  an  expellable  offense,  they 
will  send  for  you.  If  it's  merely  to  give  you  a  few  marks  or  sus 
pension  from  college — they'll  not  send.  If  they  do  send  for  you, 
Rives,  I  advise  you  to  be  humble,  and  try  and  explain  your  wrest 
ling  match  with  the  tutor,  if  you  can.  The  best  explanation  would 
be  that  you  thought  it  was  a  classmate  and  you  merely  threw  him 
in  sport." 


224  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"No,"  said  Jack.  "I  can't  say  that.  I  knew  it  was  Smile.  I 
won't  lie  about  it." 

"Then,"  said'  Hetherington,  smiting  his  fist  on  the  table, 
"they'll  expel  you.  They  are  very  technical,  and  if  they  have  no 
excuse  to  hang  a  little  mercy  on,  they'll  logically  be  obliged  to 
punish  you  very  severely,  for  no  student  may  lay  a  hand  on  a 
member  of  the  faculty — and  live !  " 

"At  least  you  can  apologize,"  said  Harry,  "and  say  you're  sorry 
for  dumping  him." 

"No,  I'll  not!"  said  Jack  dismally. 

"Well,  your  previous  good  character  will  help  you,  perhaps," 
said  Hetherington;  "you've  done  pretty  well.  If  you  can  explain 
that  it  was  a  sudden  overwhelming  frenzy  to  steal  that  note 
book " 

"That's  what  it  was!  "  Jack  laughed. 

"  Well,  explain  it  that  way  then — say  you  were  out  of  your 
head.  The  excitement  had  crazed  you.  Insanity  is  a  good 
defense,"  laughed  Hetherington. 

Harry  had  secretly  been  to  Tutor  Dilworthy  and  Professor 
Shepard  and  confided  in  them,  and  had  telegraphed  Uncle  Dick 
Lyman  to  come  up  from  New  York.  Before  Hetherington  left  that 
noon  Mr.  Lyman  put  in  an  appearance. 

"Upsetting  a  tutor!  That's  punishable  by  death — eh,  Mr. 
Hetherington?"  he  said.  Uncle  Dick  set  his  bag  down  on  the 
boy's  table,  lit  a  cigar,  and  proceeded  to  get  out  all  the  facts.  He 
had  met  Professor  Walker  on  the  way  up  Chapel  Street  from  the 
depot  and  had  had  a  talk  with  him.  Professor  Walker  liked  Jack 
and  promised  to  do  all  he  could  to  save  him,  but  he  had  told  him 
that  it  was  a  grave  offense — as  grave  as  any  that  had  come  before 
the  faculty  of  late  years.  "As  Ac  put  it,  it  does  sound  rather  bad," 
said  Lyman,  puffing  out  a  cloud  of  smoke,  "and  it  was  wise — your 
sending  for  me,  Harry.  As  soon  as  I  can  get  all  the  facts  I'm 
going  to  see  everyone  I  know.  It  would  break  your  father's 
heart,  Jack,  if  they  expelled  you.  But  they  won't,  if  I  can  help  it 
— and  I  think  I  can.  Now  tell  me,  Jack,  why,  ichy  didn't  you  just 
snatch  that  notebook  and  skip?  " 


TUTOR   SMILE.  225 

"He  grabbed  me,  and  to  get  rid  of  him  I  threw  him  over  my 
hip,"  said  Jack,  "and  then  my  cap  fell  off — and  he  picked  it  up, 
I  suppose,  and  so  got  my  name,  inside." 

"They  will  say  you  were  in  the  act  of  stealing,  or  rather  it  was 
highway  robbery.  O  Jack!  Jack!  But  be  calm  when  they  send 
for  you.  Just  say  it  was  a  spontaneous  insane  impulse  which  led 
you  to  do  it." 

"That's  what  we  all  agree — to  plead  insanity!"  laughed  Harry. 
Uncle  Dick  left  after  talking  a  little  while.  He  took  a  grim 
lawyer's  view  of  the  situation  and  saw  plainly  its  weak  side.  He 
was  industrious  however,  and  saw  as  many  of  his  old  friends  and 
cronies  in  the  faculty  as  he  could.  There  was  dear  Dr.  Wister 
his  classmate,  now  in  the  med.  fac.,  who  was  an  old  chum.  Dr. 
Wister  went  without  his  dinner  for  Lyman's  sake,  and  had  an 
interview  with  President  Stout  himself.  The  faculty  met  at  two 
o'clock,  but  by  that  time  Lyman  had  seen  five,  and  Dr.  Wister 
seven  of  the  faculty,  and  had  gotten  them  "well  disposed,"  at 
least.  They  would  concede  nothing,  and  promised  nothing,  but 
Lyman  felt  pretty  certain  that  they  would  not  vote  to  expel. 

He  went  without  his  own  lunch,  and  saw  the  last  professor  file 
into  the  meeting  room  in  the  little  "cabinet"  building,  in  the  rear 
of  the  chapel.  If  it  had  been  his  own  son,  or  himself,  he  couldn't 
have  felt  more  disturbed  over  Jack's  possible  fate,  for  he  was  very 
fond  of  the  dear  boy. 

He  went  back  to  the  boy's  room  in  South  Middle,  and  found 
Caswell  there,  lying  on  the  lounge  with  bandaged  eyes.  He  was 
rapidly  recovering  from  the  bruise  in  the  head  he  had  received. 
Coles  was  there  also.  Caswell  said: 

"Oh,  pshaw — they  won't  expel  anyone!  Why,  I've  been  before 
the  faculty  more  than  once.  Your  character's  good,  Jack;  mine 
never  was." 

"I  ought  to  have  got  Jack  to  come  in,"  said  Harry  ruefully. 
"But  Torn  Coles'  bacon  was  all  I  could  save  that  night." 

"Yes,  it's  owing  to  you,  Harry,  that  I'm  not  up  before  the 
faculty,"  said  Coles,  and  he  went  on  and  told  Uncle  Dick  about 
Harry's  rescue. 


226  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

Lyraan  laughed  heartily.  "  You  boys  in  TJmpty-f our  are  a  tough 
lot,"  he  said.  "In  after  years  they  won't  believe  such  rows  were 
possible.  The  New  Yale  that  is  to  be  will  be  much  tamer— but  I 
like  you  hearty  fellows  well  enough  as  you  are." 

As  they  were  sitting  there  in  came  Grannis  and  little  Nevers, 
who  was  very  sympathetic  with  Jack,  and  presently  a  number 
more  of  his  friends  entered.  Jack  was  popular,  and  the  deep  con 
cern  in  their  frank  honest  faces  was  unmistakable.  What  if  he 
were  expelled! 

Poor  Jack  was  in  a  bad  scrape!  Presently  there  came  a 
knock.  It  was  a  knell  to  that  little  assembly  of  friends.  Even 
Stamp  »was  quick  to  recognize  a  difference  in  the  quality 
of  the  sound.  His  hair  bristled  up,  and  he  uttered  a  low 
growl. 

Instinctively  he  recognized  the  hand  of  the  faculty! 

The  door  opened.  There  stood  Professor  Walker,  looking 
rather  pale,  anxious,  and  worried.  He  called  Jack  out,  and  told 
him  he  was  summoned  before  the  faculty  meeting,  at  once. 
Lyman  went  out  and  talked  with  Professor  Walker,  while  Jack 
went  back  to  brush  his  hair  and  "fix  up"  a  little.  As  he  stood 
there  brushing  his  coat,  everyone  was  silent,  but  when  he  went 
out  they  crowded  around  him  and  shook  his  hand.  It  was  dread 
ful,  his  being  summoned!  It  meant  that  they  were  actually  con 
templating  his  expulsion.  Poor  Jack! 

Lyman  walked  with  Jack  and  the  professor  as  they  went  back 
of  the  colleges  toward  the  cabinet  building.  He  simply  told 
Professor  Walker  that  it  would  kill  General  Rives  if — if  Jack  was 
expelled,  and  that  he  would  give  a  personal  guarantee  that,  if  they 
would  pass  this  thing  over,  Jack  would  never  give  any  fur 
ther  trouble.  " It  was  a  sudden,  boyish,  insane  impulse,"  he  urged, 
and  "he  was  crazy  when  he  did  it." 

"I  will  do  what  I  can,"  said  Professor  Walker  kindly.  "But  the 
feeling  seems  to  be  very  strong  that  young  Rives  has  committed 
the  most  severely  reprehensible  act  possible — he  has  laid  violent 
hands  on  a  member  of  the  faculty  who  was  acting  only  in  the  line 
of  his  duty." 


TUTOR    SMILE.  227 

"Yes,  yes — I  know,  professor.  But  after  all  it  doesn't  argue 
moral  turpitude,  but  merely  a  sudden  act  of  frenzy." 

He  kept  reiterating  this  idea,  and  had  been  pressing  it  upon 
other  members  of  the  faculty  until  some  of  them  who  did  not  know 
Jack  believed  that  the  lad  really  must  be  a  fit  candidate  for  the 
lunatic  asylum ! 

Jack  followed  the  professor  up  the  stairs.  He  looked  "nervy" 
and  determined.  At  the  landing  Uncle  Dick  grasped  his  hand 
warmly.  "God  bless  you,  my  boy,"  he  said;  "stick  to  the  insan 
ity  dodge,  they  won't  expel  a  lunatic!  it  wouldn't  be  legal!" 

Dare  we,  in  the  interests  of  this  our  tale  of  Yale,  lift  the  veil 
which  hung  over  that  solemn  tribunal,  which  was  sometimes  inex 
orable,  sometimes  merciful,  but  never  quite  forgiving?  Many  of 
those  quaint  scholastic  minds  which  passed  upon  Jack's  case  have 
since  passed  away.  Not  one  of  them  but  aimed  to  do  the  right 
— splendid  intellects  doubtless  in  their  own  departments  of  art  or 
letters  or  science — but  mo'ving  little  in  the  world,  and  sometimes 
governed  by  motives  and  by  a  scholastic  reasoning  which  would 
not  obtain  in  a  coarser  atmosphere.  May  one  dare,  also,  to  venture 
upon  any  mild  criticism  of  so  august  a  body?  Are  these  gentle 
men  of  the  faculty,  then,  to  be  convicted  of  any  unfairness  in  their 
dealing  with  student  delinquencies?  Did  they  ever  err  on  the  side 
of  mercy? 

Every  old  Yale  grad.  who  reads  these  lines  will  answer  this  last 
question  warmly  in  the  affirmative. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    FACULTY    MEETING. 

S  Jack  entered  the  room,  he  saw  the  members 
of  the  faculty,  in  solemn  conclave,  seated 
to  the  number  of  thirty  in  chairs  arranged 
in  the  form  of  a  semicircle,  with  good  old 
President  Stout  in  the  center  of  the  horse 
shoe.  The  room  was  hung  with  portraits 
of  grim  straitlaced  old  Puritans,  who  had 

formerly  occupied  either  the  presidential  chair  or  that  of  some 
important  professorship.  The  tutors  sat  together  at  one  side  and 
in  bunches  of  two,  since  by  the  existing  rule  of  the  faculty  two 
tutors  were  necessary  to  constitute  one  vote,  and  it  was  easier 
thus  to  count  them. 

It  was  a  solemn,  august  body  of  men,  where  highest  intelligence 
predominated  over  every  emotion.  Professor  Black  bent  on  the 
young  lad  his  keen,  searching,  almost  malignant  glance.  Tutor 
Smile  sat  sulkily  looking  over  some  loose  leaves  which,  as  he  was 
rather  near-sighted,  he  held  close  to  his  eyes,  and  turned  his  head 
continually  from  left  to  right  as  he  read.  Professor  Maynard 
blinked  behind  a  large  and  momentous  pair  of  gold  spectacles, 
Professor  Shepard  looked  rather  sad  and  vexed,  close  by  the  presi 
dent,  but  as  Jack  entered  he  smiled  and  nodded  to  him  kindly. 
How  his  heart  thrilled  at  that  one  kindly  recognition  in  all  that 
cold  assembly!  He  loved  the  professor  from  that  hour.  He  was 
appalled  by  the  coldness  of  the  glances  cast  at  him.  Even  Tutor 
Dilworthy  looked  down  on  the  floor,  and  dared  not  give  him  the 
satisfaction  of  a  friendly  nod.  He  was  a  culprit  already  con 
demned,  already  sentenced!  Thoughts  of  his  mother  and  his 
father,  and  of  their  consternation  at  his  expulsion,  came  over  him 


THE   FACULTY  MEETING.  229 

with  a  terrible  rush  of  despair.  He  made  up  his  mind  then  that 
he  would  not  go  home  again — he  could  endure  the  stern  glances 
of  these  men  who,  he  was  led  to  believe  through  college  traditions, 
were  his  natural  enemies,  but  he  could  not  endure  the  silent  misery 
of  his  mother,  or  the  hard  bitterness  of  his  father,  the  general. 

He  would  go  away  somewhere  West.  He  was  only  eighteen, 
and  there  were  plenty  of  ways  for  him  to  earn  a  living.  Good  old 
Grannis  would  help  him  perhaps  into  something  out  in  Keokuk. 
There  was  little  regret  present  in  his  mind  for  what  he  had  done. 
Pah  !  upset  a  tutor — what  was  that !  A  sneak  of  a  tutor  who  had 
to  go  and  tittle-tattle!  He  was  perfectly  assured  inwardly  that  he 
would  have  done  the  same  thing  over  again  !  He  stood  up  straight, 
and  manly,  and  handsome  as  a  picture.  There  was  no  shame  at  all 
in  his  face  or  in  his  attitude.  lie  didn't  cringe  and  fawn  and 
beg  for  his  life!  Not  he — poor  Jack! 

Possibly,  had  old  General  Rives  been  present,  he  would  have 
secretly  admired  his  son  as  he  stood  there  before  the  faculty. 
In  the  student  code  of  ethics  it  was  no  sin  to  steal  a  tutor's  "spot 
ting"  book  out  of  his  hands,  or  no  crime  to  trip  him  up.  It  was 
considered  a  daring  act — a  brave  deed! 

The  faculty  through  the  mouth  of  President  Stout  gravely  gave 
him  their  diametrically  opposite  view  of  what  he  had  done: 

"Mr.  Rives,  you  are  charged  with  a — and  what  it  appears  to  me 
to  be — a  very  wanton  and  offensive  act  of  insubordination.  Never 
since  I  have  been  an  incumbent  of  the  office  of  president  of  the 
university  have  I  met  with  such  an  exact  state  of  facts.  As  I 
understand  from  what  has  been  said,  you,  without  provocation, 
last  Wednesday  night  or  Thursday  morning,  at  about  the  hour  of 
1  A.  M.,  attempted  to  steal  and  did  take  away  property  belonging 
to  a  tutor  of  this  college.  In  the  encounter  you  wantonly  threw 
the  tutor  upon  the  ground  and  kicked  him,  and  then  ran  off.  Mr. 
Rives,  this  constitutes  a  very  grave  offense.  But  before  we,  as 
members  of  the  faculty,  proceed  to  pass  upon  your  case,  and  mete 
out  the  punishment  due  you,  I  will  add  that  it  appears  that  you 
have  previously  borne,  as  far  as  we  know,  a  good  character;  that  is 
to  say,  you  have  hitherto  done  or  performed  no  overt  act  which 


230  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

would  warrant  the  faculty  in  concluding  that  you  were  a  hardened 
wrongdoer.  Mr.  Rives,  you  come  to  us  from  Christian  parents, 
and  from  a  Christian  home.  Perhaps  the  action  of  the  faculty, 
whatever  it  will  be,  may  be  salutary  in  affording  you,  perhaps,  an 
opportunity  to — to  return  to  its  benign  influence.  Mr.  Rives, 
will  you  come  forward  a  little?  You  do  not  seem  to  be  one  who 
is  especially  hardened,  or  who  is  incapable  of  improvement." 

Jack  wondered  whether  he  was  expected  to  reply  to  this,  and 
Professor  Shepard  spoke  up  slowly: 

"What  have  you  to  say,  Mr.  Rives?  Won't  you  please  tell  the 
faculty  exactly  what  happened  that  evening?" 

"All  the  evening?"  asked  Jack. 

"Only  in  connection  with  this  affair  with  Tutor  Smile." 

Jack  coughed,  then  after  a  moment  said,  "I  was  on  my  way  to 
my  room,  after  seeing  the  bonfire,  and  was  greatly  heated  and  felt 
very  thirsty.  I  saw  Mr.  Smile  coming  along  putting  down  names 
in  his  notebook.  A  sudden  fancy  struck  me  that  it  would  be  a 
good  joke  to  snatch  that  notebook  out  of  his  hands  and  run  with 
it.  I  don't  know  why,  but  it  was  a  sudden  overwhelming  insane 
idea.  When  I  did  so  he  grabbed  at  me,  and  then  I  accidentally 
upset  him  in  tearing  myself  loose.  I  did  not  kick  him.  The 
notebook  I  threw  into  the  fire.  It  contained  two  or  three  dozen 
names  of  men  who  were  not  out  that  night  at  the  bonfire — to  my 
certain  knowledge.  There  is  one  thing  I  wish  to  add,  sir,  emphat 
ically:  I  did  not  kick  Mr.  Smile  when  he  was  down." 

Professor  Walker  had  told  him  that  that  would  be  the  charge. 
"Ah,  yes,  but  did  you  kick  him  at  any  other  time?"  asked  Pro 
fessor  Black  with  a  keen  glance,  "and  if  so,  when?" 

"No,  sir,  I  never  kicked  or  touched  him  before." 

"We  think  differently,"  said  Professor  Maynard,  who,  after  he 
had  spoken,  seemed  to  retire  again  behind  his  spectacles  and  blink 
profoundly  again. 

"I  state  the  fact,  sir,"  said  Jack  simply.  "That  is  all  I  can 
say." 

"But  he  says  you  kicked  him,"  said  another  professor.  "He 
states  you  kicked  him  twice  as  he  lay  upon  the  ground." 


THE   FACULTY  MEETING.  231 

"That's  untrue,  sir,"  insisted  Jack.  "How  could  I?  I  was 
trying  to  get  away  as  fast  as  I  could."  And  he  smiled. 

Tutor  Smile  shook  his  head.  Very  likely  he  really  believed  that 
Jack  had  kicked  him  as  he  lay  stunned  and  astonished  on  the 
ground.  He  was  greatly  shocked,  no  doubt,  and  believed  that  his 
treatment  had  been  far  worse  than  it  really  had  been. 

"He  kicked  me  twice,"  said  he.  "They  were  sharp  hard  kicks. 
I  feel  certain  they  were  produced  by  blows  from  the  foot.  There 
was  no  one  else  present  at  the  time  of  the  assault,  and  I  conclude 
the  kicks  proceeded  from,  and  were  produced  by  the  shoes  and  feet 
of,  Mr.  Rives  of  the  sophomore  class." 

"That  is  false!"  cried  Jack  hotly.  "I  wouldn't  kick  anyone — 
especially  a  man  Avho  was  down.  I  deny  utterly  that  I  did  any 
thing  more  than  upset  Mr.  Smile — and  if  he  received  bruises  they 
were  caused  by  his  fall  only.  I  don't  care  what  happens — those 
are  the  honest  facts.  Ask  anyone  in  my  class  if  I  would  do  such  a 
thing!  If  I  did  I  ought  to  be  expelled  at  once.  It's  untrue!  It's 
false!  I  was  merely  after  the  notebook  in  which  he  had  written 
name  after  name  of  men  who  were  not  out  there  that  night.  I 
seized  that  and  was  off." 

No  one  who  saw  him  could  have  helped  being  impressed  with 
his  honesty.  But  if  the  faculty  were  moved,  no  one  gave  expres 
sion  to  it.  They  all  sat  sterner,  harder,  and  silenter  than  before. 
"You  admit  all  the  facts  except  the  two  kicks?"  asked  the 
president. 

"It  happened  as  I  said — and  just  as  I  said,"  said  Jack.  "I  was 
crazy,  I  suppose." 

"State  exactly  what  you  did  during  the  entire  evening,  begin 
ning  at  six  o'clock,"  said  the  president. 

"That  I  prefer  not  to  do,"  said  Jack.  It  occurred  to  him  now 
that  his  "jig  was  up"  anyway,  and  there  was  no  use  in  relating  all 
the  particulars  of  hazing  Bogey,  and  so  "peaching"  on  his  friends, 
and  getting  into  worse  difficulties.  This  was  the  most  heinous 
sin  in  the  college  student  catalogue — to  "peach." 

"You  must  answer,"  said  the  president  more  sternly.  "It's  the 
rule  of  the  faculty." 


232  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"I  would  rather  not,"  said  Jack  firmly. 

"You  must  answer,"  said  Professor  Black  with  anger,  "at 
once." 

"It  will  be  better  for  you,"  said  Professor  Shepard  kindly. 

"Why,"  said  Tutor  Dilworthy,  rising,  "I  don't  know  about 
that.  In  a  court  of  law  a  prisoner  is  not  permitted  to  inculpate 
himself.  I  can't  see  why  we  need  go  into  extraneous  matters. 
Perhaps  Mr.  Rives  was  calling  on  someone  earlier  in  the  evening 
whose  name  he  doesn't  wish  brought  into  the  affair.  Suppose  it 
was  some  refined  young  miss — would  anyone  wish  her  name 
brought  in  in  this  connection?  Or  he  may  have  spent  his  evening 
in  some  other  way  which,  while  proper  in  itself,  he  is  unwilling  to 
put  before  the  faculty." 

"And  were  you  calling  on  someone,  Mr.  Rives?"  asked  Professor 
Black,  with  a  great  show  of  sternness,  under  the  circumstances. 

"Ye — yes,  sir."  Jack  felt  this  was  only  a  fair  answer,  although 
the  freshman  Bogey  was  hardly  a  refined  young  "miss." 

"But  we  stand  to  you  in  the  relation  of  parent  and  child,"  said 
Professor  Sinister,  who  hitherto  had  not  said  a  word,  but  who 
fidgeted  nervously  in  his  chair  as  if  he  would  very  likely  fall  off  in 
another  moment;  "in  loco  parentis.  Would  you  not  tell  your 
father  where  you  had  been?" 

"Yes,  sir — I  would  tell  my  father — and  he  could  tell  you  if  he 
saw  fit — as  he's  a  lawyer  and  I'm  not." 

Everyone  looked  at  the  other  as  if  this  speech  was  particularly 
"wanton,"  and  at  least  ill-mannered. 

"You  will  not  answer?"  asked  the  president  again,  in  the 
manner  of  an  auctioneer  giving  his  last  call. 

"I'd  rather  not,"  said  Jack. 

"  Then  you  may  go  /" 

As  luck  would  have  it,  too,  as  Jack  went  out  the  door  caught  a 
gust  of  wind  as  he  made  his  exit,  and  banged  to  with  a  terribly 
insubordinate  and  loud  "wanton"  sounding  bang.  "  Oh,  I'm 
done  for!"  he  muttered  to  himself,  and  ran  over  to  South  Middle, 
feeling  that  he  had  made  a  bad  mess  of  it  before  the  faculty. 
There  was  a  great  crowd  in  his  room  as  he  entered,  and  you  could 


THE   FACULTY  MEETING.  233 

cut  the  smoke  with  a  knife.  Uncle  Dick  had  just  been  telling 
them  his  great,  if  apochryphal,  story  of  Sedgwick,  the  lithe  South 
ron  who  captured  the  valedictory  by  a  neat  murder  of  his  rival 
in  old  South.  All  were  waiting  for  Jack  to  come  in. 

"Boys!"  he  cried  excitedly,  bursting  in  at  the  door.  "I'm  a 
goner!"  Then  he  told  them  everything  that  had  transpired,  down 
to  the  slamming  of  the  door  as  he  went  out. 

Uncle  Dick  Lyraan  dove  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets.  "Gad!" 
he  said,  "it  looks  like  expulsion — but  Professor  Shepard  will  do 
all  he  can.  And  so  will  Tutor  Dilworthy,  and  all  those  friends  of 
Dr.  Wister's." 

"  We'll  get  up  a  monster  petition,"  said  Coles.  "If  Jack  goes,  I 
go  too.  By  all  the  gods,  boys,  let's  even  go  as  far  as  to  say  we'll 
light  out  and  go  to  Harvard!" 

A  universal  groan  indicated  that  this  was  a  step  which  hardly 
anyone  in  the  room  was  quite  desperate  enough  as  yet  to  con 
template. 

A  knock  was  heard.  Bob  Clark  entered  with  one  or  two  juniors. 
He  shook  hands  with  Uncle  Dick  and  Jack.  "We  can't  let  the 
faculty  expel  you,  Rives,  for  you're  going  to  row  on  the  'varsity 
next  summer  if  I  have  my  say.  I  told  Professor  Walker  to-day. 
He  understands  it.  He  intimated  that  his  daughter  had  said  a 
good  word  for  you  also." 

Harry  smiled  and  said  nothing,  but  what  a  sensation !  to  have 
Bob  Clark  go  out  of  his  way  to  make  a  point  of  coming  up  to 
their  room!  Everyone  was  silent  as  death.  It  was  a  historic 
scene.  Jack  felt  dizzy.  Oh,  if  he  had  to  leave  college  now,  how 
terrible  it  would  be!  On  the  ''varsity?  He?  Jack?  Oh,  they 
could  not  be  so  cruel  as  to  send  him  home  when  Bob  Clark  had 
interceded  in  his  behalf! 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Harry.  "As  good  luck  would  have  it  Miss 
Walker  was  at  a  tea  at  Professor  Shepard's  which  we  were  at,  and 
Jack  put  in  one  half  hour  with  her  on  the  piazza." 

Jack  blushed.  "She's  awfully  good  to  speak  a  good  word  for 
me,"  he  said.  "I — I  shall  never  forget  it." 

"Why,  I  used  to  know  Miss  Walker  myself,"  said  Uncle  Dick— 


234 


COLLEGE  IM  YS. 


"Adele  Walker.  Her  full  name  is  Adelaide.  She  used  to  be 
quite  pretty— she  was  a  belle  long  before  my  day.  Why,  she 
must  be  thirty-five  if  she's  a  day." 

"Thirty -five!  She  looks  twenty-one,"  said  Harry.  "How  girls 
do  deceive  a  fellow!  " 

"  Pshaw !  if  Adele  Walker  has  got  her  father  on  the  right  side  of 
the  question,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  "I  don't  think  we  need  fear  any 
thing  so  bad  as  an  expulsion.  Oh,  no,  Jack!  They'll  do  some 
thing  certainly.  They'll  suspend  you,  but  they  won't  expel. 
Cheer  up,  my  boy!  " 

"But  even  that  will  break  the  governor  all  up!  "  said  Jack  rue 
fully. 

"  We'll  take  care  of  that.  We'll  keep  it  all  from  him.  It's  easy 
enough." 

After  they  had  sat  a  little  while  longer  all  hands  went  out  across 
the  campus  to  the  soph  fence,  which  faced  College  Street.  Here 
were  already  gathered,  in  the  gi-owing  dusk  of  the  late  afternoon,  a 
number  of  their  classmates.  The  sun  shone  through  beneath  the 
elms  against  the  old  brick  row,  and  lit  up  the  long  homely  facade 
with  a  peculiar  glory. 

"And  I  will  have  to  leave  it  all !"  said  poor  Jack  sorrowfully. 
"Just  when  it's  beginning  to  be  so  pleasant — and  college  life  only 
really  begins  when  you  get  into  the  dormitories." 

They  all  perched  on  the  fence  with  Uncle  Dick  seated  in  the 
midst  of  them  and  Stamp  at  his  feet.  "Come,"  said  the  old  boy, 
"let's  cheer  our  hearts  with  that  song  of  songs,  'Gaudeamus 
igitur.'  ' 

Uncle  Dick  repeated  each  verse  with  solemn  emphasis,  and  they 
sang  it  after  him.  In  the  light  of  Jack's  going  away,  perhaps  his 
expulsion  from  college,  the  song  made  a  deep,  never  to  be  for 
gotten  impression. 

Gaudeamus  igitur 
Juvenes  dum  sumus. 
Post  jucundum  juventutem, 
Post  rnolestam  senectutem, 
Nos  habebit  humus. 


THE  FACULTY  MEETING.  235 

After  that  followed 

Ah  me,  condilione 
Quid  meus  pater  dicet  me 
Si  redeam  Conditione. 

and  Nevers  gave  them  the  warble,  "Oh,  where,  oh,  Where  has 
Mine  Leetle  Dog  Gone?"  and  they  sang,  "When  the  Matin  Bells 
are  Ringing,"  "Those  Evening  Bells,  and  "Stars  of  the  Summer 
Night" — all  gathering  there;  dear,  beloved  Jack  in  the  midst  of 
them.  What  rows,  initiations,  escapades,  had  not  the  "Gimly 
gang"  already  participated  in  together?  While  they  were  all  talk 
ing  and  laughing  and  encouraging  Jack,  Harry  slipped  away  and 
hung  about  the  door  of  the  cabinet  building,  where  the  faculty 
were  still  in  session.  He  strode  back  and  forth  nervously,  along 
the  path  in  the  rear  of  the  chapel.  Presently  he  saw  one  or  two 
professors  making  their  exit.  His  heart  was  in  his  boots.  What 
was  the  verdict? 

"I  wish  it  was  I,"  he  kept  saying  to  himself.  "I  wish  it  was  I 
—  I  don't  see  how  General  Rives  will  ever  forgive  Jack."  He 
thought  he  saw  Tutor  Dilworthy  striding  over  toward  old  South. 
He  ran  after  him,  and  caught  him.  His  face  was  pale,  and  he 
fairly  trembled  as  the  kind-hearted  tutor  said,  "It  was  a  hard 
fight,  and  very  close — but  it  was  decided  finally  to  suspend  Rives 
for  eight  weeks  and  give  him  twenty-five  marks." 

Harry  threw  his  cap  up  in  the  air.  He  didn't  shout,  for  he  saw 
Professor  Shepard  just  behind.  He  impulsively  went  up  to  the 
dear  old  professor,  and  grasped  his  hand.  Tears  stood  in  his  eyes. 
He  said  nothing — he  couldn't.  He  ran  down  between  the  Lyceum 
and  South  and  across  to  where  Jack  was  on  the  fence. 

"Rusticated — only  eight  weeks!"  he  shouted,  and  immediately 
everyone  tumbled  over  one  another  to  get  a  shake  of  Jack's  hand. 

Uncle  Dick  Lyman  stood  on  top  of  the  fence  where  the  crowd 
held  him  in  an  upright  position,  Avaving  his  cane. 

"  Gaudeamus  iyitur"  he  sang  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

Gaudeamus  igitur 
Juvenes  dum  sumus  ! 


236  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

How  they  sang  the  brave  old  Horatian  ode  that  second  time ! 

The  old  boy  was  the  most  excited  among  them.  "Nothing  will 
do  but  a  dinner  at  Gradley 's,"  he  insisted.  "  O  Jack !  we  will  pre 
vent  your  father's  knowing  this — not  a  line  shall  reach  him.  I'll 
fix  that  with  Mrs.  Rives.  Thank  the  Lord  it's  no  worse  than  it 
is !  Why,  it's  really  nothing  at  all ! "  And  he  slapped  Jack 
heartily  on  the  back. 

The  dinner  at  Gradley's — which  was  sufficiently  lively  and 
uproarious  to  have  completely  satisfied  the  conscience  of  even 
Uncle  Dick  himself — for  the  many  toasts  to  dear  old  Professor 
Shepard,  and  "noble"  old  Dilworthy,  and  even  Professor 
Sinister  and  the  unworldly,  high-minded  old  President  Stout, 
and  others  among  the  faculty  who,  they  believed,  had  been 
friendly  to  Jack — and  the  deep  damnation  and  death  to  Tutor 
Smile  and  Professor  Black — all  the  toasts  and  the  wine,  and  the 
dog  fight  afterward  in  Gradley's  pit,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing,  between  one  Stamp  (by  King  of  Terrors  out  of  Lady  Mac 
beth;  owner,  J.  C.  Rives,  Esq.)  and  Fighting  Tim  (by  Dan 
out  of  Nell;  owner,  George  Gradley,  Esq.) — being  the  result 
of  a  lot  of  loud  talk  in  Gradley's  bar-room  after  dinner,  and  which 
fight  was  won  in  a  "jiffy  "  by  Stamp,  who  killed  Fighting  Tim  in 
nine  minutes,  and  sent  Uncle  Dick  back  to  New  York  next  day 
very  sleepy,  but  with  fifty  dollars  in  his  pocket  after  paying  for 
the  dinner,  the  wine,  and  everything  else  the  boys  had  at  Grad 
ley's  that  night— the  dinner  at  Gradley's,  we  say,  left  the  "Gimly 
gang"  in  very  poor  condition  for  recitation  the  next  morning,  but 
in  the  highest  spirits. 

Faithful  old  Alston,  their  sweep,  nearly  pulled  Harry  out  of  bed 
as  the  chapel  bell  was  ringing. 

Jack  called  out  sleepily  from  his  bedroom,  "As  long  as  I  am 

to  be  sent  off  anyway  in  a  day  or  two,  I  suppose,  I  guess  I  won't  be 

particular  about  the  'literary  or  religious  exercises'  any  further! " 

So  he  turned  over  to  blissful  repose  once  again,  and  went  fast 

l  i  O       •     > 

asleep. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  it  came  out  that  Gas  well  also  was  sus 
pended—his  connection  with  the  street  row  becoming  known 


THE  FACULTY  MEETING.  237 

through  the  physician,  who  was  also  a  member  of  the  faculty— 
Another  man,  a  member  of  the  freshman  class,  was  also  suspended 
— the  row  and  the  bonfire  had  been  considered  a  very  grave  breach 
of  discipline  by  the  faculty. 

Very  often  suspension,  or  rustication  as  it  was  called,  punished 
only  the  poor  innocent  parents.  But  in  this  instance  Uncle  Dick 
went  immediately  to  work  to  prevent  General  Rives  getting  any 
letter  from  the  faculty  whatever.  He  went  to  the  general's  law 
office  in  lower  Broadway,  and  after  explaining  the  situation  to 
his  law  partner,  an  old  Harvard  man,  he  arranged  to  inclose  any 
letter  from  New  Haven  which  had  in  the  left-hand  upper  corner, 
"If  not  called  for  within  ten  days  return  to  Box  443,  New  Haven, 
Ct.,"  to  him,  Lyman,  as  soon  as  convenient.  He  also  went  to 
Yonkers,  where  the  general  lived,  and  saw  Mrs.  Rives.  He 
made  light  of  the  rustication,  and  persuaded  her  to  think  it  a 
bagatelle.  "My  dear  Mrs.  Rives,"  the  good  fellow  insisted,  "there 
is  no  use  in  punishing  your  innocent  husband — lie  will  only  suffer 
terribly  when  Jack  has  really  done  nothing  out  of 'the  way. 
Why  punish  him?  " 

"But  if  it  is  nothing " 

"  Yes,  but  he  is  of  the  old  school,  he  won't  understand ;  times 
have  changed  since  your  husband  was  in  college.  His  being  in 
the  army  has  also  made  him  very  fond  of  strict  discipline.  He 
will  be  very  angry  with  Jack — who  is  the  bravest,  dearest  fellow 
in  the  world." 

"Oh,  he  will  be  so  much  more  angry  when  he  finds  it  out! "  she 
laughed. 

"But  he  never  will  find  it  out,  not  till  long  after  Jack  is  out  of 
college." 

The  good  woman,  who  (as  was  the  case  with  all  who  knew  the 
kind-hearted,  unselfish  fellow)  yielded  to  Lyman's  persuasion,  the 
next  day  received  the  faculty's  letter,  and  inclosed  it  unopened  to 
Lyman.  He  put  it  away  in  his  safe.  "Some  day  Jack  and  his 
father  will  read  that  letter,  and  there'll  be  a  great  laugh  over  it," 
he  said  to  himself.  He  felt  he  had  been  very  kind  to  General 
Rives — kinder  indeed  than  to  Jack  himself. 


238  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

The  day  following  Jack  was  duly  notified  that  "on  and  after 
twelve  o'clock,  on  the  Saturday  following,  you  will  be  required  to 
take  up  your  residence  at  a  distance  at  least  ten  statute  miles  from 
the  State  House  in  the  city  of  New  Haven.  Nor  will  you  be 
permitted  to  return  to  New  Haven  for  a  period  of  eight  weeks 

from  that  date." 

He  was  permitted  to  go  north,  south,  east,  or  west,  but  must  go 
away  at  least  ten  statute  miles.  "Banished!— from  all  I  hold 
dear!"  He  cried— "from  you,  Harry  [mock  tears]  f— from  the 
d— dear  o— old  college!  from  Tutor  Smile!  Oh  I  c— cannot  I 
ca_ca__ cannot  endure  the  disgrace!" 

«And— I—"  groaned  Caswell.  "They've  sent  me  up  too! 
When  I  got  my  head  broken  by  that  towny,  I  think  I  had  punish 
ment  enough!  They  spotted  me  because  my  character  was  N.  G. 
They  made  no  charge  against  me !" 

"  Rather  a  discharge !"  laughed  Jack. 

"And  now  1  feel  obliged  to  spend  a  part  of  my  rustica- 
on  in  Charmington.  Jack,  that's  the  place  for  us.  Besides, 
I'm  more  than  half  in  love — I  can't  help  it — with  the  Hast 
ings." 

Harry  looked  up  from  his  book  quickly.  Caswell  pretended 
not  to  notice  it. 

"Oh,  it's  time  I  left  fooling  away  my  time  here  at  college — and 
married  and  settled  down.  I'm  twenty  years  old.  Father  says 
college  life  will  be  the  death  of  me  and  him  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
family.  I  had  better  quit  after  this  year.  Then  there's  Emily 
Garland  at  Charmington  now,  too — the  Garland  is  a  whole  bunch 
of  flowers." 

"I  think  Charmington  would  be  the  last  place  to  go  to,"  said 
Harry.  "A  dull  place  with  nothing  to  do — of  course  they'll  warn 
off  all  the  girls  at  Miss  Stout's  school.  You  mustn't  hope  to  be 
received  there." 

"  Well,  but  I  do,"  Caswell  laughed,  lighting  a  cigarette.  "  Why 
not?  I  know  Clara  Hastings  very  well  indeed.  Then  I  know 
Emily  Garland — and  I  may  have  other  cousins  up  there  later  on. 
There's  a  deuced  pretty  Miss  Carringford  there  from  New  York. 


THE   FACULTY  MEETING.  239 

I  met  her  once  at  a  dance.  Jack !  shall  it  be  Charraington  for  us 
— after  a  few  days  in  the  metrolopus?  " 

"Oh,  I  don't  care  where  I  go,"  said  Jack.  "I'm  going  to  have 
some  shooting  and  fishing;  that's  one  thing.  I'd  like  to  run  down 
to  Long  Island  a  week.  If  father  doesn't  know  it,  I'm  not  so 
terribly  anxious  to  stay  in  New  Haven.  I'd  just  as  lieve  have  a 
little  change  as  not.  Or  I'll  go  down  to  New  Orleans  with  you 
and  take  in  the  Mardi  Gras." 

"No,  that's  in  March,"  said  Caswell.     "This  year." 

"Well,  I'll— go  anywhere— 

"Very  accommodating,  I  must  say!"  laughed  Caswell,  whose 
head  was  still  in  a  bandage.  "1  think  we'll  do  New  York — on  the 
strictly  incog.,  you  know;  then  a  week's  shooting  on  Long  Island, 
at  father's  gun  club,  which  includes  'sons  of  members' — you  know 
the  famous  ' Sons  of  Guns  Club."1  Let  me  see,  it's  the  1st  of 
December  now — that  will  bring  us  to,  er — a  week  before  Christ 
mas,  and  we'll  go  up  then  to  Charmington  and  get  a  little  acquainted 
before  the  Christmas  holidays.  .  There  will  be — two  weeks  out  for 
vacation — eight  weeks  will  be  up  about  February  15th,  I  take  it. 
Why,  we  can  manage,  by  running  down  to  New  York  every  week 
or  so,  to  have  quite  a  jolly  time.  That  Carringford  is  a  daisy. 
She's  tall,  has  a  small  waist,  dark  hair,  brilliant  complexion,  and  is 
almost  as  beautiful  as  Hastings — but  Hastings  is  more  intellectual, 
see?  She  can  talk  like  a  book.  She  can  dazzle  a  feller  once  in  a 
while.  Do  you  remember,  Harry,  how  she  sat  on  that  old  grad 
from  New  York  who  thought  they  were  so  low  and  unrefined  as  to 
graduate  at  Charmington?  How  her  eyes  snapped!  " 

"I  remember  she  got  into  you,  Caswell,  pretty  often." 

"Indeed  she  did.  She's  been  down  on  me  ever  since  I  upset  her 
and  her  aunt  going  to  Saltonstall.  Heigho,  how  tempus  fugits! 
It  was  only  yesterday  that  that  happened,  yet  it  was  a  year  ago. 
You  fellows  have  grown  a  dozen  years  older.  I  fed  like  Methuse 
lah.  Egad!  I  ought  to  be  a  junior  now  with  my  class.  And 
here  I  am  only  a  soph  and  rusticated  at  that!  [Without  a  change 
in  his  voice]  I  say,  when  shall  we  start  for  New  York,  Jack?  I 
hear  there's  to  be  a  big  send-off." 


240  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"Of  course,"  said  Harry.  "We've  got  a  brass  band  and  tin 
horns;  we're  going  to  do  the  thing  up  proud  at  the  depot." 

"I  suppose  you'll  expect  speeches,"  said  Jack,  who  was  binding 
a  patch  over  Stamp's  left  eye,  a  sole  reminder  of  the  fight  with 
Gradley's  Tim.  Stamp  he  intended  to  take  with  him  wherever 
he  went.  The  fight  with  Gradley's  dog  had  ended  a  great  deal  of 
bickering  which  had  been  going  on  for  a  year.  Stamp  was  now 
a  hero.  The  dog  seemed  to  appreciate  and  feel  the  new  honors 
achieved  by  him.  You  may  say  what  ugly  things  you  will  of  a 
bulldog,  it  is  the  most  human  and  most  faithful  creature  in  the 
whole  world. 

Before  Jack  had  destroyed  Tutor  Smile's  notebook,  he  and 
Harry  and  Coles  had  copied  off  a  list  of  the  names  which  the  tutor 
had  "spotted."  Many  of  them  were  not  out  the  night  of  the  bon 
fire,  and  had  their  names  come  before  the  faculty  would  probably 
have  been  warned  or  punished  by  marks,  or  in  some  cases  even  sus 
pended,  on  the  strength  of  the  tutor's  statement.  There  had  been 
so  much  rowing  the  last  two  years,  the  faculty  were  making  every 
effort  to  suppress  it.  Many  a  man  came  up  and  thanked  Jack  for 
what  he  had  done,  and  when  he  and  Caswell,  in  the  carriage 
driven  by  the  smiling  Barney,  moved  in  procession  headed  down 
Chapel  Street  on  the  Saturday  morning  following,  I  doubt  if  there 
was  a  more  pleased,  contented,  and  delighted,  and  wwpunished 
under-class  man  in  all  Yale  College. 

"What  are  eight  weeks  anyway?"  said  Caswell.  "It's  a 
vacation  from  all  the  everlasting  'literary  and  religious'  exercises. 
We  will  manage  to  have  a  pretty  good  time.  We  can  do  what  we 
please.  New  Haven  is  only  a  small  part  of  the  world,  anyway." 

"I  suppose  it  doesn't  seem  so  to  the  faculty,  or  they  wouldn't 
think  it  such  a  terrible  punishment  to  send  us  ten  miles  away  from 
the  city  environs,"  said  Jack,  as  they  rode  along  listening  to  the 
singing  and  the  music  of  the  brass  band. 

"  They  judge  us  by  themselves,"  laughed  Caswell.  "  Think  how 
queer  it  would  be  to  rusticate  a  tutor— cut  him  off  from  his  salary 
—or  suppose  they  compelled  Professor  Black  to  live  away  from 
New  Haven— what  a  small  potato  he'd  be  in  New  York,  eh?  " 


THE  FACULTY  MERITING.  241 

First  at  Brood's  and  then  at  the  depot  (then  the  old  under 
ground  affair  on  Chapel  Street)  there  were  parting  speeches,  bottles 
of  champagne,  and  much  hand-shaking.  If  Tutor  Smile  had 
happened  down  there  at  the  time  he  would  have  met  with  a  some 
what  overpowering  reception.  The  college  world,  dear  reader, 
is  not  the  "parental"  world — it  is  a  world  by  itself — and  Jack 
in  college  parlance  had  been  very  plucky  and  "square,"  and  his 
hard  luck  was  not  "deserved." 

As  Harry  grasped  his  hand  and  their  eyes  met  for  the  last  leave- 
taking,  a  pleasant  smile  came  to  both. 

"I  haven't  thought  much  about  you,  Chestnuts,  the  last  day  or 
two,"  said  Jack;  "you'll  be  lonely — but  you'll  come  up  and  see  us 
when  we  get  fixed  in  Charmington — or  wherever  AVC  go.  Good- 
by,  old  sporty.  Thank  the  Lord  it's  no  worse  than  it  is!" 

"  Good-by,  Jack, 

Don't  stay  long; 

Come  back  soon  to  your  own  Chickabiddies! 
Oh,  good-by,  Jack, 
Don't  stay  long! 
For  we  all  love  you,  Jack,  like  a  broth — er!" 

So  sang  his  classmates,  and  the  whistle  blew,  the  bell  rang,  and 
Jack  Rives  waved  his  hat,  and  he  and  Caswell  were  off  together  for 
New  York,  on  their  enforced  vacation.  In  the  eyes  of  most  of  the 
faculty  they  were  indeed  Arcades  ambo — blackguards  both ! 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE    VISIT   TO    CHAKMINGTON. 

"•T'TT'ELL,  what's  happened?" 
VV       "  Give  us  the  news ! " 

"  Who  has  taken  the  Lit.  medal?  " 

These  were  Harry's  first  greetings  a  few  weeks  later,  when  he 
met  Jack  and  Caswell  walking  in  the  road  as  he  drew  near  Charm- 
ington  on  top  of  the  old  stagecoach,  then  driven  by  the  famous 
"Ammi."  Old  Charmington  girls  all  remember  " Ammi." 

Caswell  and  Jack  had  concluded  to  rusticate  in  the  pleasant 
little  Connecticut  village,  after  ten  days  of  New  York. 

Harry  proceeded  to  give  them  all  the  college  news.  Everyone 
was  grinding  for  the  examinations  and  thinking  about  the  Christ 
mas  holidays.  The  Thanksgiving  jubilee  had  guyed  Tutor  Smile 
terribly.  The  faculty  were  going  to  suppress  the  jubilee. 
There  were  hints,  too,  that  they  were  going  to  suppress  all  the 
freshman  societies  except  Gamma  Nu,  which,  remarked  Caswell, 
was  already  turned  into  a  sort  of  prayer-meeting. 

"Well,  how  is  Charmington?"  said  Hariy.  "How  is  Miss 
Stout?  How  are  all  the  girls?  Do  they  know  I'm  coming? 
what  a  treat  is  before  them?" 

"No;  we  haven't  said  a  word,"  laughed  Jack.  "We're  going 
to  let  your  presence  burst  upon  them  like  a  box  of  Rising  Sun 
stove  polish !" 

"I  suppose  Miss  Stout  has  got  up  a  little  dance,  or  some  enter 
tainment  for  to-night?"  he  laughed  lightly. 

"No;  but  we've  got  up  a  skating  party  for  you  this  afternoon, 
about  a  mile  to  the  north'ard,  on  the  river  down  by  the  'old  red 
bridge.'  The  skating  is  fine— and  Carrie  Hastings  skates  like  a 
swan." 

242 


THE  VISIT  TO  CHARMINGTON:  243 

"That's  a  libel!"  laughed  Harry. 

As  the  stage  slowly  toiled  up  a  hill  beneath  some  fine  elms, 
they  passed  several  grand  old  colonial  houses  standing  a  little 
back  from  the  street.  The  whole  aspect  of  the  peaceful  village, 
strung  out,  New  England  fashion,  along  the  one  wide  street,  was 
charming  and  delightful,  but  a  deathlike  stillness  prevailed.  It 
seemed,  as  Harry  observed,  that  no  one  quite  dared  to  speak  above 
a  whisper. 

Springing  down  from  the  coach,  as  it  stopped  before  a  little 
white  hotel,  the  genial  landlady  came  out  to  greet  them.  Caswell 
and  Jack  were  already  prime  favorites  with  Mrs.  Watt,  and  she 
took  pains  to  make  their  stay  as  pleasant  as  possible.  No  one 
whose  lot  it  was  to  visit  Charm ington  at  this  period  can  help 
recalling  her  jolly  face,  her  kind  ways,  and  her  motherly  kindness 
to  young  people  coming  to  and  going  from  school,  and  she  was 
one  of  the  best  cooks  in  all  the  little  Nutmeg  State. 

It  was  just  the  dinner  hour,  midday,  when  they  arrived.  And 
how  they  sailed  into  Mrs.  Watt's  chickens  d  la  Maryland,  and 
her  lamb  pot-pie  with  its  delicious  gravy !  And  how  good  the 
new  cider  was — and  the  fresh  celery — and  the  pickled  butternuts 
— and  the  hot  mincepie — and  the  cream,  rich,  thick,  and  delicious! 

"  Charmington  is  not  so  bad.  I  think  a  man  might  well  stay 
here  two  days!"  laughed  Harry,  as  they  rose  from  the  table  and 
lit  their  cigars.  They  were  the  only  guests. 

Harry,  being  remarkably  good-natured,  could  be  teased  and 
persuaded  into  doing  almost  anything.  They  started  out  for  a 
walk  and  soon  approached  Miss  Stout's,  where  they  intended  per 
suading  him  to  make  a  call.  At  a  turn  in  the  road  on  the  way, 
clad  in  a  long  dark  cloak  with  a  gray  fur  collar,  a  neat,  trim  little 
knit  Tarn  o'Shanter  cap  surmounting  her  dark  hair — her  whole 
aspect  so  demure,  so  scholastic,  yet  so  comme  il  faut — walked  the 
beautiful  Miss  Hastings  herself. 

Dare  he  approach?  What  was  the  thing  to  do?  Harry  stood 
there  spellbound,  unable  to  decide.  He  did  not  know  the  etiquette 
of  Charmington. 

"Bow  coldly  and  pass  her  like  a  stranger,"  whispered  Caswell, 


244 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


who  knew  what  was  what.  But  Harry  couldn't  do  that.  He 
went  forward  and  extended  his  hand. 

"Mr.  Chestleton!     How  very  sorry  I  am!"  she  cried. 

"I'm  not!"  he  laughed  as  he  grasped  her  gloveless  hand. 

"That  you're  in  such  bad  company,  I  mean"--  with  an  amused 
smile  in  Jack's  direction. 

"Oh,  those  fellows  have  no  power  to  harm  me!"  he  laughed. 
"I'm  not  rusticated,  you  know.  Do  you  think  me  capable  of  such 
a  thing?" 

"He  deserved  a  worse  fate,"  said  Caswell,  "than  to  be  banished 
into  the  presence  of  Miss  Hastings." 

"Yes,  the  faculty  are  keeping  his  nose  on  the  grindstone!" 
laughed  Jack.  "  He  is  not  to  be  allowed  the  inestimable  privileges 
of  Charmington  except  for  over  Sunday." 

"Over  Sunday!     Then  I  shall  see  you  at  church?" 

"Yes — and — aren't  you  going  to  skate  this  afternoon?" 

Clara  Hastings  glanced  furtively  down  the  broad  street  to  see 
if  there  was  any  teacher  in  sight.  Some  elderly  ladies  were  com 
ing  out  of  the  school-gate,  and  she  said  hastily,  "Yes,  at  four 
o'clock  at  the  old  red  bridge." 

Then  she  quickly  walked  on. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  boys  were  unmindful  of  their 
appointment. 

At  four  o'clock,  while  Jack  and  Caswell  chattered  and  bustled 
about  and  put  on  the  girls'  skates  for  them  by  the  old  red  bridge, 
Harry  stood  back  awkwardly,  unable  to  say  a  word.  Clara  Hast 
ings  overwhelmed  him  with  her  beauty  to-day.  His  usual  presence 
of  mind  was  all  gone.  He  looked  "all  broken  up,"  Jack  said 
afterward.  Visions  of  pretty  Ella  Gerhart  came  to  him  then,  but 
he  knew  that  Ella's  was  an  affair  of  the  "past."  He  was  now,  he 
felt  it,  really  in  love.  It  was  no  matter  for  amusement.  He  was 
flustered,  excited — didn't  know  exactly  what  he  was  saying. 
"May  I  have  the  first  dance?"  he  asked  Miss  Carringford  before 
she  had  risen  from  the  turf  bank  where  she  was  sitting.  Oh,  what 
a  break ! 

Miss  Carringford,  a  charming  young  blonde   from  Baltimore, 


THE    VISIT    TO   CHARMINGTON.  245 

looked  up,  saw  his  seriousness,  and  laughed  in  his  very  face.  Both 
girls  were  capital  skaters,  and  were  up  and  off  in  a  fine  "outer 
edge"  together  before  the  young  men  could  get  on  their  skates. 

The  ice  on  the  old  mill-pond  was  good  and  free  from  sriow.  It 
was  a  pretty  place,  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  fine  old  timber. 
The  old  mill,  which  was  a  picturesque  wooden  affair  with  a  large 
wheel,  afforded  an  excellent  retreat  in  case  of  cold.  Not  far  off 
the  old  red  bridge  gleamed  in  the  sun  through  the  trees.  As  they 
all  skated  slowly  around  to  the  bridge,  they  met  two  more  scho 
lastic  Charmingtonians,  and  there  was  an  introduction  all  around. 

The  new  girls  seemed  to  have  the  air  of  feeling  it  was  all  very 
wicked,  but  jolly — as  if  it  were  all  a  sort  of  lark. 

"Mr.  Chestleton  and  I  are  old  friends,"  said  Clara  Hastings, 
who  seemed  to  have  no  embarrassments. 

"Yes,  old  chums,"  blurted  out  Harry.  It  was  not  at  all  what 
he  wanted  to  say.  He  couldn't  control  his  tongue. 

"Oh,  pray  tell  us  what  awful  thing  you  did  to  be  sent  up!" 
asked  one  of  the  girls,  while  Clara,  turning  down  the  corners  of 
her  mouth,  skated  off  with  Jack. 

"I — I — killed  a  tutor — not  entirely  by  accident,  I  assure  you," 
said  Harry,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  graceful  retreating  pair, 
"and  afterward,  to  conceal  the  crime,  I  burned  his  body  in  my 
stove — my  coal  gave  out." 

"So  the  faculty  went  and  rusticated  you  for  only  that?  How 
cruel !"  laughed  one  of  the  girls. 

If  Clara  Hastings  kept  far  away,  he  found  he  could  talk  glibly 
enough  with  the  other  girls.  How  jolly  it  was  skating  about 
with  these  pretty  young  scolastiqiies  and  no  chaperone  in  sight! 
His  eyes,  however,  kept  wandering  off  after  Clara  Hastings.  She 
had  thrown  off  her  cloak  now  and  was  skating  in  a  sealskin  sack, 
her  Tarn  o'Shanter,  with  its  red  tassel,  danced  in  the  wind  as  she 
flew  by  like  some  skimming  bird  over  the  ice. 

How  divinely  she  skated!  I Pe  loved  her;  but  he  would  never 
dare  confess  it,  because  she  must  think  him  so  clumsy  and  stupid. 
lie  could  skate  very  fast,  but  he  could  not  do  the  "outer  roll"  at 
all.  BV  George!  he  would  try  it,  though.  He  did — and  overlie 

»/  o  v 


246  COLLEGE   DA  YS. 

went,  his  feet  up  in  the  air,  at  Clara  Hastings'  very  feet!  Every 
one  laughed.  It  was  the  first  fall  of  the  afternoon.  Miss  Hast 
ings  laughed,  too,  and  gracefully  stooping,  gave  him  her  hand. 

"Come,  I  will  teach  you,"  she  said  rather  patronizingly.  When 
a  girl  can  excel  a  man  in  any  outdoor  sport  how  very  condescend 
ing  she  always  is! 

The  mental  picture  he  conceived  of  himself  was  really  quite  dis 
tressing.  To  her  he  was  a  manly,  handsome  fellow,  and  plucky, 
too,  for  she  remembered  the  brave  fight  he  had  made  against  Har 
vard  last  June.  She  rather  liked  his  honest  awkwardness,  in  her 
secret  heart,  under  her  tuition.  He  tried  to  catch  her  light,  spiri- 
tuelle  grace,  and  endeavored  to  become  at  once  easy  and  graceful 

himself. 

«Eyes — Up — up — up!"  she  laughed  as  they  swung  under  the  old 
red  bridge  with  a  grand  sweep. 

He  stopped  suddenly. 

"I — I — please  don't  look  at  me  so!" 

"Not  look  at  you,  Mr.  Chestleton? 

"I  can't  stand  it.  You  think  me  a  clumsy  idiot — you're  the 
only  girl  I  care  to — to — not  have — I'm  going  back  on  Monday." 

She  did  not  smile.     Her  heart  was  beating  strangely,  too. 

"Sometimes  I  have  wished  it  was  you  and  not  Mr.  Caswell  who 
had  been  suspended.  I  don't  like  him." 

Could  he  believe  his  ears? 

He  fairly  trembled  as  he  said  eagerly,  "If  I  thought  you  cared 
to  have  me  here  I'd  go  back  to  college  and  steal  the  clapper  out  of 
the  chapel  bell — and  get  caught  by  Smile — anything  to  be  here 
near  you " 

"JVo,"  she  cried  firmly;  "if  you  want  me  to  care  a  pin  for  you, 
go  back  and  beat  Harvard  next  July !" 

Then  she  skated  swiftly  away,  and  he  thought  he  heard  her 
merry  laughter  ring  out,  though  she  turned  her  face  away  from 
him.  Evidently  the  idea  of  his  being  rusticated  on  her  account 
began  to  strike  her  as  immensely  funny.  It  was  an  offer  of  an  act 
of  devotion  which  confirmed  her  quick  feminine  instinct  as  to  the 
real  situation  after  their  meeting  on  the  Caswell  yacht  in  mid- 


THE    VISIT    TO    CHARMINGTON.  247 

sound  the   previous  summer.       Harry   then   imagined  himself  in 
love ! 

Pie  did  not  see  very  much  more  of  her  that  day.  Clara  cleverly 
avoided  any  more  little  tete-d-tctes  on  the  ice.  The  girls  took  their 
leave  of  them  at  the  old  bridge,  after  skating  until  they  were 
tired,  and  after  a  promise  to  take  a  stolen  walk  the  next  day 
(Sunday)  in  the  later  afternoon. 

As  Harry,  Jack,  and  Caswell  lit  their  cigarettes  and  watched 
the  laughing  knot  of  sweet,  lovable  girls  disappear  in  the  growing 
dusk  up  the  roadway,  and  the  stars  began  one  by  one  to  creep  out 
and  shine  like  lamps  above  the  horizon,  Ted  Caswell- — the  worldly 
— the  "  wicked,"  as  he  was  denominated  at  college — Caswell  him 
self  gave  vent  to  their  common  thought,  in  the  delicate  poetic 
outburst : 

Rah— rah— rah — 

Rah — rah — rah — 

Rah — rah — rah — 

Charmington! 

In  the  long  brisk  walk  they  took,  two  by  two,  on  the  Sunday 
afternoon  following,  Harry  could  not,  for  the  life  of  him,  bring 
their  conversation  to  personal  matters.  Clara  Hastings  was  a 
laughing,  charming,  whole-souled  sort  of  girl,  who  apparently  had 
not  the  least  desire  to  flirt.  Of  rich  parentage — her  family  now 
lived  in  Cleveland,  O.,  and  owned  a  beautiful  house  on  Euclid 
Avenue — she  had  the  rare  good  sense  to  enjoy  what  came  along,  and 
yet  to  avoid  the  pitfalls  of  flirtation  into  which  so  beautiful  a  girl 
is  often  tempted. 

Presently  Harry  and  Clara  became  separated  from  the  others, 
and  found  themselves  walking  along  the  hard  smooth  road  through 
a  piece  of  woods.  Their  talk  had  been  very  sedate  and  serious. 
Harry  had  told  her  a  great  deal  about  himself  and  his  life  at  Yale 
— his  hopes  and  fears  for  senior  year  societies.  lie  told  her,  too, 
about  his  mother  and  what  a  noble  woman  she  was,  and  of  his 
sister,  who,  he  expected,  would  enter  Charmington  in  another  year. 

"I  should  like  to  meet  her — it's  such  a  pity!  I  shall  leave 
Charmington  next  year — perhaps  go  abroad  with  the  family.  My 


HARKY  AND  CLAKA   BECAME   SEPARATED   FROM   THE   OTHERS. 


THE    VISIT    TO    CHARMINGTON.  249 

father's  health  is  not  good,  and  he  and  my  mother  and  elder  sister 
are  in  London.  I  wish  you  could  see  Jessie,"  she  cried  with 
enthusiasm;  "she's  a  real  beauty — and  she's  made  a  tremendous 
hit  in  London  society." 

"I  can't  bear  to  think  of  your  going  over  there — and  being 
'noticed'  by  the  Prince  and  all  that." 

"Oh,  me!     No  one  will  ever  notice  me,"  she  laughed. 

"By  Jove!"  cried  Harry  energetically,  then  subsided. 

"My  aunt  wants  me  to  spend  next  winter  with  her  in  New 
Haven,"  pursued  Clara — "especially  if  the  house  is  closed  and  all 
are  abroad,  as  they  expect  to  be." 

"Oh,  do!"  he  cried,  delighted.  "It  will  be  our  junior  year, 
and  we'll  try  and  'make  you  have  a  jolly  good  time."  Then  he 
added,  "Do — on  my  account." 

"You — what  would  you  care?" 

"I — I — "  again  he  paused. 

"I  know  students  pretty  well!"  she  laughed  gayly.  "They  are 
all  the  same.  They  say  the  same  things  to  each  girl  they're  with, 
and  the  girls  always  relate  to  each  other  what's  said — and  there 
you  are !" 

"Oh,  yes!  I  suppose  you  girls  tell  each  other  everything. 
That's  where  men  are  different.  We  are  always  silent  as  a  tomb. 

For  instance 

"Well?" 

"Do  you  think  I  ever  let  Jack  know  how  much  I  care  for  you?" 

It  was  a  puzzling  question  to  answer. 

"I  don't  think  you  ought  to  care  for  anyone  now,  Mr.  Chestle- 
ton.  I  think  you  ought  to  think  of  your  studies  first."  She  gave 
a  pretty  toss  of  her  head. 

"I  do — but  second — 

"Thanks,  I  don't  care  to  be  second  to  anything" — and  she 
walked  on  very  briskly. 

"Miss  Hastings,  you  know  how  to  be  aggravating.  Of  all 
girls  in  the  world — 

"Well,  I  like  that."  (Heightened  color.)  "Aggravating! 
Well,  Mr.  Chestleton,  do  you  think  I'm  going  to  all  this  trouble 


250  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

for  you  and  risking  Miss  Stout's  displeasure,  though  I  know  she 
wouldn't  mind  as  long  as  we  had  met  before— to  hear  that  I  am 
aggravating?" 

There  was  a  dangerous,  mischievous  flash  in  her  pretty  eyes,  and 

Harry  hastened  to  say : 

"I  know  I  am  awfully  stupid  not  to  see  you  don't  care  for  me 
one  bit,  and  that  you  like— I  know  whom  you  like." 

"  Well,  who  is  it?"     She  paused,  and  her  chin  went  up  in  the  air. 

"It's  Ted.  Yes,  and  I  shouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised  to  hear  the 
next  thing  you're  engaged." 

He  said  this  defiantly,  and  though  very  angry,  she  said,  "It's  a 
case  of  little  pitchers  again !  I'm  not  engaged,  and  don't  intend 
to  be.  Oh,  do  let's  hasten  on  and  catch  up  with  the  rest!  Here 
we  are  quarreling  already.  I'm  sure  that  I  meant  to  be  amiable, 
but  yoifve  been  perfectly  horrid." 

"I  didn't  mean  to  be,"  he  said  meekly. 

"Well — you've  been  very  'young,'  at  all  events — dreadfully 
'young,'  "  she  said  as  they  parted. 

.He  recognized  this  as  being  one  of  the  most  crushing  things  a 
Charmington  girl  could  say. 

Slipping  on  his  ulster  after  supper,  Harry  strolled  out  and  down 
the  street.  The  bell  was  ringing  for  evening  service  at  the 
meetin'  house  opposite  the  school,  and  as  he  approached  the  white 
simple  edifice,  he  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  feeling  half 
inclined  to  enter.  This  affair  with  Clara  was  a  deeply  serious 
thing  with  him.  He  felt  that  if  he  couldn't  win  the  love  of  the 
beautiful  girl  he  would  leave  college  and  go  into  business  out 
West  somewhere.  The  Ella  Gerhart  affair  had  been  a  useful  epi 
sode.  He  discovered  how  sweet  a  thing  a  girl's  love  is,  and  it 
taught  him  to  value  Clara's  affection  only  the  higher. 

He  entered  the  church  and  took  a  seat  way  back  in  the  rear. 
The  schoolgirls  came  trooping  in  two  by  two.  It  was  not  to  be 
a  regular  serivce — it  was  to  be  a  "service  of  praise."  A  lady 
whose  face  was  unknown  to  him  presided.  The  girls  seemed  to 
have  somewhat  less  constraint  than  in  the  morning.  The  atmos 
phere  of  the  plain  white  meeting  house  was  much  less  chill ;  but 


THE    VISIT    TO    CHARMINGTON.  251 

he  felt  lonely,  he  being  the  only  male  being  in  church,  and  as  Clara 
did  not  come  in,  he  looked  furtively  around  with  a  view  of  mak 
ing  an  early  escape.  He  realized  that  he  had  only  entered  for  the 
purpose  of  staring  at  the  back  of  Miss  Hastings'  head  and  of 
observing  the  abundant  coils  of  her  dark  luxuriant  hair. 

What  young  man  is  there  who  has  ever  loved  who  has  not 
dreamed  away  hours  in  the  sanctuary  over  the  distant  view  of  the 
bonneted  and  beribboned  fair  one?  The  purity  and  sanctity  of  her 
surroundings  make  a  heaven  for  her  lover  out  of  the  cold,  gray 
church  walls.  His  love  is  pure  and  beautiful  at  such  times.  He 
worships — her! 

He  was  alone.  He  felt  timid,  weak,  discouraged,  hopeless — 
when  Clara  Hastings  herself,  accompanied  by  a  slender  little  girl 
of  thirteen  or  so,  entered  hastily  his  very  pew  and  knelt  by  his 
side,  fairly  crowding  him  along  further  in  the  pew.  The  little  girl 
eyes  him  admiringly,  and  Clara  rose  and  gave  him  a  sweet,  forgiv 
ing — dared  he  say  loving  glance?  No;  it  wasn't  that;  it  was 
pitying,  rather. 

It  was  a  brave  thing  she  was  doing,  there  before  Miss  Stout  and 
so  many  girls,  but,  after  all,  it  was  the  act  of  a  lady.  She  knew 
he  had  no  hymn-book;  she  knew  that  he  was  alone;  she  knew 
he  was  unhappy,  so  she  felt  drawn  to  him  (!). 

She  was  wholly  and  overwhelmingly  lovely  to  him.  Her  hair, 
slightly  disarranged,  hung  low  on  her  white  neck.  She  had  a 
slightly  wearied  air,  too.  Her  pretty  hands,  with  their  rings,  held 
the  hymn-book  open  on  her  lap.  He  did  not  mind  the  stares  of 
the  girls — even  the  giggles.  What  a  strange,  impulsive,  beauti 
ful  girl  she  was!  His  heart  beat  fast  as  they  rose  to  sing,  and  his 
hand  just  touched  hers.  His  soul  soared  high  into  realms  of  peace 
and  purity  and  love.  lie  never  forgot  that  sweet  little  white 
church  afterward  during  his  life — the  trembling  organ,  the  choir 
of  sweet  girl  voices,  the  smoking  lamps  suspended  from  the  ceil 
ing—ah!  it  was  heaven  to  him  that  night. 

As  they  went  out  Clara  presented  him  to  Miss  Stout — not  with  a 
coy  shamefacedness,  but  with  a  calm,  high-bred  demeanor  which 
disarmed  her  preceptress. 


252  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

When  Harry  slowly  walked  back  to  the  "colony"  with  Clara 
Hastings,  both  were  rather  quiet.  At  the  gate,  as  they  parted,  he 
asked  a  question,  "May  I  write?"  The  moon  covered  her  fair 
white  face  as  she  answered,  shaking  her  head,  "I  don't  think -" 

"Then  I  shall!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


VACATION     AT     HOME. 

ULE-TIDE  saw  our  hero  at  home  in  the  com- 
fortable  New  York  house  in   West  Thirty- 
sixth  Street.       Clara  Hastings  was  at  New 
Haven  with  her  aunt,  and  perhaps  would  find 
time  to  answer  the  letter  he  had  written  dur 
ing   Christmas   vacation.       How   anxiously    he 
inquired  every  day  at  home  if  a  letter  had  corne 
for  him ! 

At  last  one  day  his  mother  asked : 
"Do  you  expect  a  letter  from  Ella  Gerhart?" 
"No." 

"  What  has  become  of  her?  " 

"She's  out   West    somewhere  in  a  theatrical  troupe  with  her 
sister." 

"She  has  never  written  you?" 

"No;  but  she  has  sent  me  half  a  dozen  programmes  at  different 
opera  houses  and  theaters,  with  her  name  in  the  cast." 
"Who  do  you  expect  is  going  to  write  you,  Harry  ?" 
"Oh,  I  don't  know." 

"Tell  me " 

"I  wrote  to  her  first,  at  Charmington." 

"Tell  me  her  name.     Of  course,  Miss  Stout  doesn't  want  her 
girls  corresponding  with  everyone." 

"Mother,  arn  I — everyone? — Clara  Hastings  said  once  she  didn't 
dislike  me.     I  told  her  I  was  bound  to  write.     I  didn't  care  what 
she  did  about  it.     I  wrote  her  after  I  visited  Jack  at  Charming- 
ton.     That  was  over  three  weeks  ago.     She  hasn't  answered  it." 
"Of  course  she  won't." 
"But  my  letter  was  very  formal.     I  just  told  her  that  I  hoped 


254  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

I  would  see  her  in  New  York  this  vacation.     She's  in  New  Haven 
now,  you  know." 

"Where  did  you  first  meet  her,  Harry? " 

"On  the  Caswells'  yacht.     Mrs.  Caswell  introduced  us." 

Mrs.  Chestleton  appeared  mollified.  "  Of  course  it's  some  one 
you  young  fellows  are  eternally  after,"  she  laughed;  "and  I'm 
glad  it's  a  lady  this  time,  and  not  a  shop  girl— is  she  pretty, 
Harry?" 

"  She's  the  prettiest  girl  at  Charmington  !  " 

His  mother  kissed  him. 

"She  is  Miss  Stout's  especial  favorite." 

"So  was  /in  my  day." 

His  sister  Kitty,  coming  in  at  the  moment,  the  conversation 
changed  to  other  matters. 

Kitty  Chestleton  had  shot  up  into  a  tall,  healthy  young  girl, 
without  the  slightest  touch  of  sentiment  and  with  the  greatest 
desire  to  tease  anyone  who  could  be  convicted  of  having  any. 
She  held  a  square  envelope  in  her  hand  provokingly.  Harry  could 
see  it  had  a  monogram  on  the  back.  The  handwriting  was  large 
and  very  straight,  up  and  down.  His  heart  stood  still  as  Kitty 
laughingly  held  the  letter  high  in  her  hand,  then  thrust  it  behind 
her. 

."It's  from  a  girl — I'm  sure  it  is,"  she  cried;  "and  I  think 
mamma  and  I  ought  to  read  it  first.  Don't  you,  mamma?  " 

Harry  tried  to  appear  indifferent.  "Mother,  don't  you  think 
Kitty  is  getting  too  old  for  this  sort  of  thing?  "  he  said,  getting  a 
little  angry.  "Let  me  have  it,"  he  added;  "it's  probably  a  notice 
about  something  or  other.  Is  it  from  New  Haven?  " 

"You  shan't  know!  "  and  Kitty,  to  tease  him  beyond  endurance, 
lit  a  match  as  if  to  burn  his  letter  to  ashes.  He  sprang  up  and 
made  a  dash  for  her,  but  Kitty  was  too  quick  for  him.  She  ran 
laughing  out  of  the  room.  It  was  a  long  stern  chase,  but  he  got  it 
at  last. 

Having  captured  the  letter  Harry  retired  into  his  room  and 
locked  the  door  in  order  to  devour  its  contents  in  peace  and 
quietude. 


VACATION  AT  HOME.  255 

Very  little  comfort  the  letter  gave  him  !  It  was  couched  in  that 
cold,  formal,  stilted  style  a  young  lady  can  reduce  herself  to  when 
desiring  to  be  particularly  impressive.  "She  had  not  written  in 
reply  to  his  very  kind  letter  in  Charmington,  because  she  had  been 
so  very  busy  with  her  music.  It  had  been  very  gay  in  New  Haven 
during  the  holidays.  The  De  Lariceys  liad  given  a  grand  ball,  and 
two  hundred  people  were  there.  She  had  met  a  'Mr.  Davis,'  of 
Umpty-four,  and  liked  him  very  much.  She  had  danced  with  him 
three  times."  This  piece  of  startling  information  was  underscoi'ed, 
as  if  to  impress  Harry,  but  it  only  made  him  full  of  wrath. 

"She's  always  throwing  some  other  fellow  at  me!"  he  cried, 
"when  she  must  know  a  man  can't  stand  it.  What  does  she  think 
a  man  is  made  of?  " 

When  he  got  back  to  college  for  winter  term  he  waited  exactly 
four  weeks  before  replying  to  her  letter.  His  letter  gave  Clara 
Hastings  a  graphic  account  of  the  gayeties.  It  brought  a  long  reply 
inside  of  a  week,  couched  in  most  motherly  terms,  and  urging  him 
to  study  harder  and  give  up  "foolish  amusements"  and  "trifling 
nonsense,"  etc.  Harry  flattered  himself  he  was  beginning  to  un 
derstand  girls  pretty  well.  The  French  say  that  when  two  people 
are  in  love  one  is  always  the  victim.  Harry  was  obliged  now  and 
for  some  time  during  the  rest  .of  his  sophomore  and  junior  years  to 
feel  the  pangs  of  unrequited  love,  but  he  managed  to  keep  his 
passion  boiling  and  bubbling  well  within  himself.  He  began  to 
go  out  in  New  Haven  society  a  good  deal,  and  to  "case  his  heart" 
he  devoted  himself  to  several  pretty  girls  at  once.  When  the 
Junior  Prom  arrived  in  Februaiy  he  managed  to  flirt  and  make 
love  in  the  old  time-honored  sophomore  style  as  if  there  was  no 
lovely  Clara  Hastings  at  Charmington,  holding  his  heart  by  a  chain 
of  steel.  He  used  to  sit  and  talk  to  Nevers  and  Coles  and  Hitch 
and  old  'Gran'  at  Mrs.  Moriarty's,  and  eat  rarebits  and  drink  ale 
and  lay  down  the  law  about  love  and  woman  till  the  small  hours. 
What  a  knowing  set  those  sophs  were,  to  be  sure!  with  old  Gran, 
who  had  been  brought  up  on  a  Western  farm — and  who  had  less 
of  an  idea  of  what  a  woman  was  made,  as  Jack  said,  than  a 
donkey ! 


256  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"Boys,"  Grannis  often  said,  when  they  were  all  through  talking, 
"boys — there's  one  thing — women  want  to  be  treated  honest." 

There  was  a  world  of  philosophy  for  you!  Old  Gran  treated 
everyone  "honest,"  except,  of  course,  the  faculty.  The  letters  he 
wrote  for  his  poor  old  mother  to  copy  and  send  to  his  division 
officer  (and  which  had  once  brought  tears  to  dear  old  Tutor  Dil- 
worthy's  eyes) — never  brought  a  blush  of  shame  to  his  cheek. 
But  with  women  and  common  men  he  was — honest! 

Grannis  returned  from  the  West,  after  a  three  weeks'  absence, 
at  Christmas  in  a  very  cheery  frame  of  mind.  His  business  affairs 
were  prospering  to  a  very  great  degree.  But  better  than  all  he 
had  seen  Ella  Gerhart,  now  known  as  "Eline  St.  Pierre"  in  Cin 
cinnati,  and  she  had  yielded  to  his  persuasions  sufficiently  to 
promise  to  leave  the  stage  when  her  engagement  was  up.  He  told 
Harry  that  she  was  more  beautiful  than  ever;  that  she  sang  and 
danced  so  that  men  were  bewitched  who  saw  her. 

He  never  confided  in  Harry  to  the  extent  of  telling  him  whether 
he  and  Ella  had  come  to  any  definite  understanding.  Harry 
inferred  that  she  had  been  unwilling  to  say  anything  very  definite. 
Grannis  told  hirn  something  about  the  Gerhart  Electric  Light 
Company,  however,  which  surprised  him.  "  A  capitalist  in  Cleve 
land  has  put  in  twenty  thousand  dollars,"  he  said,  "and  the  Ger- 
harts  move  there  next  week.  If  Papa  Gerhart  succeeds,  he'll  be 
ten  times  a  millionaire.  Sure !  " 

"Then  Ella  won't  be  such  a  bad  match,  after  all!  "  said  Harry. 

"Do  you  think  I  care  for  her  money?  "  growled  Grannis.  " I'd 
marry  her  and  leave  college  to-morrow  if  she  came  to  me  penniless !" 

Harry  looked  at  him  admiringly  a  moment.  They  were  in 
Harry's  room  just  after  noon  recitation,  and  were  meditating  a  stroll 
over  to  the  fence.  Grannis  was  seated  on  the  window-cushions, 
and  as  the  day  Avas  warm  in  the  sun  the  window  was  open.  Every 
thing  pointed  to  spring.  The  grass  below  them  was  endeavoring 
to  paint  itself  in  a  living  green,  and  the  seniors  in  front  of  old 
South  were  at  their  senile  games  of  top-spinning  and  marbles— 
in  college  the  surest  signs  of  the  coming  summer  known. 

Our  hero  had  seen  a  little  of  society  and  of  many  girls  during 


VACATION  AT  HOME.  257 

the  term,  and  Ella  Gerhart,  and  those  jolly  Bohemian  hours  of 
freshman  year  passed  with  her,  now  seemed  very  far  away.  He 
wondered  now  why  he  had  looked  at  her  twice.  Visions  of 
another  face,  a  finer  mind,  a  deeper  nature,  came  to  him  as  he 
thought  of  the  beautiful  Clara.  He  even  pitied  Grannis  for  caring 
so  much  for  that  pretty,  light,  tete  de  linotte  Ella.  "But,"  he 
reflected,  "Grannis  is  Western."  And  there  was  no  accounting 
for  tastes. 

At  the  post  office  that  night  Harry  found  a  long  letter  from 
Jack  Rives,  postmarked  not  Charmington  but  Mitford.  As  Jack's 
letter  was  characteristic  of  the  boy  we  give  it  entire,  with  the  mild 
request  that  our  feminine  readers  will  skip  the  following  three 
pages,  as  matter  of  no  interest  to  them. 

MITFOKD,  CONN.,  March  2. 
MY  DEAR  OLD  CHESTNUTS  : 

Here  we  are — not  fired  exactly  from  Charmington — oh,  no — but  mildly 
requested  to  seek  more  congenial  quarters,  that's  all.  You  see  Gassy  got  too 
demonstrative,  and  sent  too  many  bouquets  to  Miss  Carringford,  or  Kargreaves — 
I've  forgotten  whom  it  was  ;  and  then  Miss  Stout  heard  something  about  the 
way  we  took  the  girls  out  walking  of  a  Sunday  afternoon — poor  girls  !  They 
never  have  any  relaxation  from  the  steady,  hard  grind  at  Charmington  ;  and 
the  first  thing  we  knew,  up  came  a  letter  from  the  faculty  requesting  us  to 
select  some  other  less  interesting  village  in  which  to  rusticate.  Someone  told 
us  of  Mitford,  and  we're  glad  we're  here — the  loveliest  town  in  Connecticut — 
and  too,  for  its  size,  the  liveliest.  Well,  we  hadn't  got  to  town  from  dear  old 
quiet  Charmington  five  minutes,  before  we  recognized  the  fact  that  it  was  a 
"horse  of  a  different  color."  No  girls  here,  Harry — but  a  lot  of  village 
sports  instead— good  fellows,  who  are  fond  of  horses  and  dogs.  As  soon  as 
Stamp  began  to  get  acquainted  a  little,  a  half  dozen  "  gents,"  who  congre 
gated  in  the  hotel  of  an  evening,  got  to  talking  about  a  dog  in  town  "  what 
could  bite  the  head  off  that  there  pup  "—and  at  first  we  paid  no  attention  to 
them.  But  as  time  went  on,  they  got  to  bragging  so  about  their  dogs  and 
about  a  Bridgeport  dog  that,  by  George,  Gassy  and  I  couldn't  stand  it.  Were 
we  going  to  lie  down  and  admit  Stamp  was  only  a  ladies'  pet  ?  Not 
much— and  Stamp  himself  began  to  get  provoked.  Now  Stamp,  in  Charm 
ington,  had  just  followed  along  like  any  amiable  lapdog,  and  he  let  the  girls 
pet  him  as  much  as  they  liked.  But  in  Mitford— well,  lie  wouldn't  hardly  let 
me  handle  him— he  knew  what  sort  of  a  town  it  is,  and  he  had  gone  in 
privately  to  train  fora  fight — lie  knew  what  was  coming. 


258  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Well,  things  worked  along  sort  of  so-so  the  next  day,  and  Mr.  Steems,  our 
landlord,  came  to  me  and  offered  his  big  barn,  if  we'd  consent  to  try  conclu 
sions  with  some  Mitford  fighters.  I  talked  it  over  with  Caswell,  and  he 
advised  a  fight— London  rules.  So  we  put  up  a  challenge  in  the  bar-room  as 
follows : 

"  To  all  whom  it  may  concern  : 

"  The  subscribers  will  back  their  bulldog,  Stamp,  against  any  three  dogs 
(one  at  a  time)  owned  in  Mitford,  for  one  hundred  dollars.  London  rules. 

Each  owner  to  handle  dog. 

"J.  RIVEBSON. 

"T.  CASSY." 

You  see  we  didn't  want  our  names  to  appear,  it  might  get  up  to  the  ears  of 
the  faculty.  Well,  it  wasn't  long  before  our  challenge  was  accepted,  and  the 
date  of  the  fight  set  for  last  Saturday  night.  For  three  days  before  the  fight 
we  took  Stamp  on  long  ten-mile  walks,  and  fed  him  on  raw  beef,  and  he  was 
fit  to  fight  for  his  life  (and  he  had  to)  when  Saturday  came.  There  was  a 
crowd  of  townies  and  sports  from  Bridgeport,  and  half  a  dozen  juniors  down 
with  their  big  dog  Dan — how  they  got  wind  of  it  I  don't  know,  unless 
Gassy  wired  them — though  he  promised  to  keep  it  a  dead  secret.  Well,  we 
took  every  bet  offered,  and  Cassy's  old  classmates  covered  a  lot  of  side  bets 
also.  I  wish  you'd  been  there,  old  boy  !  There  were  fifty  people  round  the 
pit  in  the  barn,  and  everyone  there  was  certain  that  the  "  Yale  doggy  "  would 
have  no  show.  You  see  they  played  sharp  on  us,  and  wouldn't  let  us  see 
their  dogs  until  they  brought  them  in  for  the  fight.  We  had  a  wrangle  over 
the  referee,  and  were  getting  into  a  snarl,  when  who  should  walk  in  but 
Charley  Gradley,  and  we  agreed  on  him  at  once.  How  he  ever  heard  of  the 
fight  and  came  down  from  New  Haven  I  never  shall  know,  I  expect.  Well, 
let  me  get  to  the  fight. 

The  first  bout  was  between  Stamp  and  a  black  cur  about  twice  his  size. 
As  ugly  a  looking  brute  as  I  ever  saw — a  regular  half  mastiff.  Well,  Stamp 
said  nothing,  but  went  in  and  got  a  grip  on  his  right  foreleg  and  crushed  it, 
while  the  brute  chawed  Stamp's  auricle.  The  leg  was  broken  in  four  minutes, 
dog  whined,  stopped  fighting,  and  owner  removed  dog  for  repairs.  We 
made  fifty  on  this  fight. 

Second  bout,  a  bull  half-breed— Brindle.  Stamp  vicious— no  more  legs 
for  him.  He  grabbed  opponent  by  the  throat,  hung  on,  and  finally  opponent 
keeled  over  dead  ;  time,  11  minutes,  33  seconds.  Rough  and  tumble  while  it 
lasted.  We  coopered  thirty  dollars.  I  examined  Stamp,  and  found  he  was  all 
right  except  his  ear,  which  was  well  chawed.  We  bathed  him  in  alcohol  and 
water,  and  soaped  his  neck  well,  for  his  third  fight  was  with  a  thoroughbred 
bull  smuggled  in  (Mr.  Steems  knew  all  about  him,  too)  from  Bridgeport.  It 


VACATION  AT  HOME.  259 _ 

was  a  rotten  shame,  but  Stamp  seemed  anxious  to  take  down  the  Bridgeport 
pride,  and  after  consultation  and  announcing  the  fact  of  the  owner's  residence, 
we  made  the  bet  one  hundred  to  seventy -five,  and  the  dogs  went  at  it.  It  was 
a  hard  fight.  They  weighed  even.  Bridgeport  was  fresh,  but  Stamp  was 
waiting  for  him.  I  never  saw  such  a  fight.  Nip  and  tuck  all  the  way  through. 
The  pit  and  the  barn  floor  was  covered  with  blood.  At  the  end  of  the  first 
round  we  threw  ice  water  on  them  to  separate  them.  Honors  even. 

Round  2. — Poor  Stampy  was  groggy,  but  was  all  there  and  fought  gamely. 

He  lost  blood  from  his  ear.  It  was  a shame  to  ring  in  a  thoroughbred 

fighter  from  Bridgeport  on  us  at  that  stage  of  the  game. 

Round  3. — We  washed  our  dog,  and  they  went  at  it  again,  hammer  and 
tongs.  Everyone  was  silent  as  death.  Bridgeport's  handler  yelled  out  "a 
hundred  even,"  and  I  took  it.  That  money's  in  my  pocket  now,  but  I'm 
afraid  Stamp,  dear,  faithful  old  Stamp  is  done  for,  but  hope  for  the  best. 

After  some  rough  and  tumble  "  in  "  fighting  (very  bloody)  Stamp  got  a  grip 
on  Bridgeport's  foreleg — his  old  trick.  We  could  hear  the  bones  snap  between 
his  old  iron  jaws,  but  the  other  dog  had  got  on  to  Stamp's  neck  and  gouged  a 
piece  out,  and  hung  on  with  a  grip  like  "  death  to  a  dead  nigger"  until,  by 
great  good  luck,  Stamp  made  a  splendid  "  roll  over" — a  neat  wrestling  trick 
(I  wonder  where  the  old  chap  learned  it  ?) — and  shook  himself  free.  Bridge 
port's  day  was  over,  he  fell  over  on  his  broken  leg,  arid  Stamp  grabbed  him 
by  the  throat  and  killed  him.  Time,  39  minutes,  40  seconds.  But  Stamp  is  a 
mighty  sick  dog  to-day.  We've  got  a  veterinary  surgeon  and  a  Bridgeport 
dog  fancier  at  work  over  him.  Dear  old  dog  !  He  lies  by  the  stove  in  a  box 
of  rags  and  cotton,  and  can  only  wag  his  tail  a  little,  feebly.  We  give  him 
milk  and  seltzer  every  half  hour.  The  men  say  he'll  never  be  fit  to  make  a 
big  fight  again,  but  we  think  differently.  S teems  lost  a  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  on  the  fight.  I'm  glad  of  it.  He's  down  on  Stamp.  Ted  and  I  spend 
all  our  time  nursing  the  dog.  Dear  old  Stamp  !  He's  a  fighter  ! — regular 
Yale  sand  in  him  !  Please  send  my  collars,  etc. 

About  four  or  five  days  later  Jack  wrote  again  : 

The  faculty  must  have  got  wind  of  the  dog  fight  in  some  way.  We  have 
received  notice  that  our  hotel  is  twenty  yard,*  within  the  limit  of  ten  miles  of 
the  New  Haven  State  House.  It  means  we've  got  to  get  out,*  and  go  further 
west,  east,  north,  or  south  !  We've  heard  of  a  jolly  place  down  on  the  Housa- 
tonic  River,  about  two  miles  west  of  here,  down  on  the  Sound,  Mrs.  Mead's, 

*  This  is  based  on  actual  fact,  Professor  Maynard  had  figured  out  the  exact 
distance  by  trigonometry,  and  it  was  this  reason  the  faculty  gave  in  a  similar 
case  in  real  life. 


260  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

where  there  are  several  pretty  girls  in  the  family.     We're  going  to  hunt 
it  up. 

Stamp  is  getting  better.  He'll  be  all  right  in  a  week  more.  We  are  taking 
the  best  sort  of  care  of  the  dear  old  fellow,  etc. 

This  letter  of  Jack's  spoke  for  itself.  Sometimes  Harry  wished 
he  had  been  suspended  along  with  his  chum,  he  felt  so  lonely  in 
his  absence,  and  Jack  and  Caswell  seemed  to  be  having  such  a 
lively  time  of  it  wherever  they  went. 

He  tried  knocking  about  in  other  fellows'  rooms  and  visiting 
his  classmates — a  dreary  sort  of  thing  when  one  only  does  it  for  the 
sake  of  companionship.  He  hunted  up  all  sorts  and  conditions  in 
his  class — from  Miss  Alum  and  her  nephew  David,  who  was  easily 
the  first  in  the  class  with  a  stand  of  3.92 — a  phenomenal  stand  and 
fully  equal  to  perfect.  The  queer  old-fashioned  back  country 
couple  still  had  rooms  on  York  Street,  and  David  complained  a 
good  deal  of  the  "  overbearingness"  of  the  set  of  Andover  fresh 
men  who  now  inhabited  Mrs.  Gimly's  lodging  house.  Harry 
called  one  night  on  Mrs.  Gimly  herself  and  Samanthy,  but  Mrs. 
Gimly  sternly  barred  him  out,  he  being  confessedly  a  sophomore, 
and  he  could  only  parley  a  moment  with  her  in  the  crack  of  the 
door. 

By  pushing  out  in  this  way,  by  reason  of  his  loneliness,  Harry 
first  became  acquainted  with  old  "Penelope"  Jones — a  shrewd  old 
Connecticut  Yankee,  who  got  his  name  one  of  the  first  days  in 
freshman  year,  by  not  sounding  the  last  "  e"  of  this  name  in  Greek 
recitation.  He  met  the  "godlike"  Jasper,  a  tall,  big,  overgrown 
light-haired  fellow,  whose  baby  face  and  kind  heart  endeared  him 
to  his  classmates  in  after  college  years.  Then  there  was  the 
sphinxlike  George  Pistol,  who  lived  all  alone  in  a  loft  over  the 
gymnasium,  and  got  his  schooling  for  his  services;  a  strong, 
athletic  fellow,  who  was  afterward  to  become  well  known  in  college 
as  an  oarsman.  He  admitted  that,  in  the  lonely  vigils  of  the  night, 
when  he  could  not  sleep,  he  would  rise,  and  going  down  into  the 
ghostly  creaking  gymnasium  pull  a  thousand  strokes  on  the 
weights  to  harden  his  back  muscles!  He  it  was  who  confided  to 
Harry  that  he  had  fasted  a  full  month  for  poor  Thornton,  who 


VACATION  AT  HOME.  261 

was  his  special  friend.  Every  grade  of  society  seemed  to  be  repre 
sented  in  Umpty-four — it  even  contained  a  negro,  who  recited  very 
well,  kept  his  own  counsel,  and  was  respected  and  liked  in  conse 
quence.  Harry  visited  about  in  every  set  and  every  clique  in  his 
class.  He  spent  an  evening  with  Weedy  Pink,  whom  he  had 
known  at  Andover,  and  whose  kindly  if  watery  eyes  gave  him  a 
friendly  greeting  when  he  hunted  him  up  in  North  Middle.  Then 
there  was  dear  old  Jed  Gilson,  who  had  such  a  dreadful  time  with 
his  conic  sections  and  his  Demosthenes,  and  whose  bibulous 
nature  led  him  to  always  keep  in  readiness  for  instant  use  a  pair  of 
what  he  called  his  "Drunk  pants."  There  was  "Dooney"  Paris, 
a  wit  of  a  high  order,  an  intellect  remarkable  for  its  marked 
power — he  found  "Dooney"  rooming  with  a  hirsute  dry  old  stager 
by  the  name  of  Whipple  Whayles.  Paris  was  of  delicate,  consump 
tive  tendency,  and  usually  pursued  his  evening  studies  with  his 
long  legs  curled  about  their  tall  coal  stove.  Whipple  never  failed 
to  loudly  object  to  this  arrangement,  but  being  a  heavy,  great 
good-natured  up-country  fellow,  yielded  to  the  witty  persiflage  of 
his  more  intellectual  chum,  and  submitted  to  his  fate.  In  the  closet 
of  this  remarkable  pair  always  stood  a  barrel  of  apples  and  a 
barrel  of  cider,  fresh  from  some  Connecticut  up-country  farm. 
Opposite  them  roomed  cheery  Fred  Closter  of  Missouri,  a  'varsity 
ball  man,  and  his  chum  Matthews.  Matthews  was  a  remarkable 
ball  player  also  and  a  remarkable  "bummer."  At  the  time  he  was 
chiefly  noted  in  Umpty-four  for  smoking  cigarettes  and  inhaling 
the  smoke  while  he  drank  a  glass  of  beer  and  then  let  the  smoke 
percolate  through  his  nostrils.  He  had  also  a  strange  hollow 
place  where  his  heart  ought  to  be,  and  it  was  rumored  in  the  class 
that  he  would  throw  up  his  hands  and  die  some  day,  while  making 
a  home  run ! 

Even  at  that  comparatively  early  day — winter  term  of  soph 
year — speculation  was  rife  as  to  who  were  going  to  senior  socie 
ties  in  the  class.  The  honor  of  belonging  to  one  or  the  other  (there 
were  only  two  senior  secret  societies  at  the  time  we  speak  ol) 
was  considered  the  chief  reason  for  remaining  in  college.  Distinc 
tion  of  any  kind  was  eagerly  sought  for,  even  in  Delta  Beta  Xi, 


262  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

and  Phi  Theta  Psi,  the  soph  societies.  Tremendous  wire-pulling 
was  done  to  get  on  the  society  campaign  committees,  or  to  make 
a  hit  in  the  theatrical  exhibitions  which  the  two  societies  gave 
regularly  once  a  month.  The  question  was  always  being  asked 
—will  So-and-so  go  to  Spade  and  Grave?  Where  will  So-and-so 
fetch  up?  To  hear  a  knot  of  men  talking  on  the  sophomore  fence 
one  would  have  imagined  that  the  elections  into  the  senior  societies 
were  just  then  about  to  be  given  out.  Then  as  now  the  senior 
societies  were  considered  as  more  or  less  of  a  reward  of  social 
standing,  or  merit  in  the  class.  There  were  certain  men  whose 
honors  always  entitled  them  to  membership,  such  as  Yale  Lit. 
men,  prominent  boating  and  baseball  men,  popular  men,  commit 
tee  men  or  high-stand  men.  In  the  soph  societies,  which  did  not 
even  try  to  keep  up  the  debates  and  speaking  of  the  freshmen 
secret  societies,  the  regular  recurring  "bums"  gave  opportunities 
for  scoring  as  actors;  a  man  who  made  a  good  hit  would  be  talked 
about  even  by  juniors  and  seniors  and  Avould  become  known. 
Umpty-four  contained  in  two  or  three  men  the  best  actors  in 
college:  Jack  was  a  very  successful  end  man  afterward  in  the 
Jubilees,  and  Tom  Patch  really  developed  marked  ability  as  an 
actor — so  successful  was  he  that  he  was  offered  a  large  salary  on 
his  graduation  by  one  of  the  best  stock  companies  in  New  York. 
Already  the  two  "crowds"  were  becoming  sifted  out  for  senior 
year.  Harry  by  virtue  of  his  repute  as  a  ball  player  was  generally 
named  as  good  for  Spade  and  Grave.  He  had  terrible  misgivings 
himself  however,  and  wondered  whether,  if  his  arm  should  give  out 
or  become  injured,  they  would  continue  to  have  any  respect  for 
him?  His  plucky  fight  against  Harvard  had  made  him  a  well 
marked  man  even  as  far  as  within  the  remote  regions  of  the  Sheffield 
Scientific  school.  It  was  and  is  a  great  thing  to  be  a  'varsity 
pitcher.  There  is  never  more  than  one  who  really  fills  this 
position  in  the  entire  University  Catalogue.  Even  in  soph  year 
things  are  decided,  the  "leading"  crowd  knows  its  men.  They 
are  called  the  most  "popular";  in  reality  they  may  be  greatly 
disliked  by  a  majority  of  the  class.  There  may  be  men  in  the 
select  crowd  who  are  actually  hated  and  feared  by  their  classmates. 


VACATION  AT  HOME.  263 

This  does  not  matter  if  they  are  "  in  the  crowd."  Upper-class  men 
reason  largelv  by  observing  who  runs  with  whom.  Harry  was 
already  becoming  aware  that  men  in  the  class — Davis,  for  instance, 
a  small,  neat  man  with  a  trace  of  a  mustache,  and  one  who  usually 
wore  a  high  hat  to  make  up  for  his  size — were  getting  very 
"chummy"  with  him.  They  considered  him  a  good  man  to  be 
seen  with.  Two  or  three  rich  New  Haven  men  began  inviting 
him  a  good  deal  to  their  houses,  and  he  began  to  see  more  or  less 
of  society  in  consequence.  He  wondered  if  it  really  could  mean 
that  these  fellows  considered  that  he  had  a  "dead  thing"  on  a 
senior  society?  It  got  to  be  so,  before  Jack  came  back  to  col 
lege,  that  he  was  donning  his  dress  suit  nearly  every  other  night 
of  the  week.  He  began  to  have  a  delicious  sense  that  he  was 
a  "prominent  man"  in  his  class.  He  wanted  to  be  really  liked 
too,  and  he  wanted  to  do  good  work  on  the  nine.  Ah,  it  was 
delightful  though,  hearing  the  dear  Yale  girls  flatter  him  and 
praise  his  powers  of  putting  a  twist  on  a  ball! 

If  only  one  true  Yale  girl,  now  temporarily  resident  in  Charm- 
irigton,  would  write  him  a  word  of  encouragement!  But  no,  her 
letter  never  came! 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


THE    GENERAL    VISITS    JACK. 

QJOPIIOMORE  year  was  lonely  in  college  in 
k^  spite  of  his  "society"  duties  in  New  Haven. 
He  missed  Jack.  He  missed  Stamp — and  the 
dog's  prowess  at  Mitford  only  emphasized  to  him 
his  many  good  qualities.  How  he  longed  for  the 
term  of  Jack's  rustication  to  be  over!  Jack  was 
always  so  jolly,  so  good-natured,  so  amusing.  It 
was  quieter  now,  and  there  was  more  time  for 
study,  but — "oh,  for  the  bang  of  a  vanished  fist — 
and  the  sound  of  a  bark  that  was  still !" 
He  was  sitting  one  night  at  his  working  table,  digging  out  his 
Theocritus  with  the  aid  of  "Liddell  and  Scott"  beneath  the  light 
of  his  student  lamp.  Eveiy  one  in  old  South  was  quiet,  cramming 
hard  on  the  difficult  conic  sections  or  trying  to  get  up  a  "stand"  in 
"Iphigenia." 

In  sophomore  years  we  have  our  task  ; 
Tis  best  performed  by  torch  and  mask 

was  hardly  true,  Harry  thought,  of  Umpty-four!  He  began  list 
lessly  poring  over  his  conic  sections,  when  he  heard  someone  at 
the  door,  and  without  a  knock  two  elderly  gentlemen  hurriedly 
entered  the  room.  They  wore  long  beards,  spectacles,  and  carried - 
heavy  canes.  He  was  quite  startled  and  rose  to  demand  who 
they  were,  when,  with  a  laugh,  they  locked  the  door,  and  threw 
their  false  beards,  spectacles,  and  moustachios  on  the  table.  It 
was  Caswell  and  Jack  on  a  "sneak"  from  the  Housatonic.  "You 
wouldn't  come  down  and  see  us,"  said  Jack,  grasping  Harry's 
hand  with  a  hearty  laugh,  "so  we  made  up  our  minds  to  run  v*p  and 
see  how  things  were  getting  on." 

264 


THE    GENERAL    VISITS  JACK.  265 


"If  the  faculty  catches  you — 

"Bosh!  The  faculty  won't  catch  us.  We're  going  to  spend 
two  or  three  days  with  you,  Harry.  In  the  first  place  the 
governor  has  written  saying  he  is  corning  up  to  see  me  Wednesday 
— that  is,  to-morrow,  and  I've  written  a  nice  letter  to  Prexy,  ask 
ing  permission  to  be  with  my  father  in  New  Haven  to-morrow.  It 
will  be  too  late  for  him  to  reply,  saying  I  can^t  come,  d'ye  see? 
and  so  it  will  be  all  right.  Father  will  be  here  on  the  eleven 
o'clock  express  and  I'll  meet  him,  and  then  we've  got  to  take  him 
in  hand  and  keep  him  away  from  any  of  the  faculty." 

Harry  laughed.  "By  Jove!  I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  he  cried. 
"Awfully  glad!" 

"I  guess  I'll  slip  over  to  see  Holland,"  said  Caswell,  rearranging 
his  beard,  and  wishing  to  leave  the  churns  together. 

"I'll  walk  over  with  you,"  said  Harry,  rising. 

"No,  better  not.  They  mighfsuspect.  I'll  just  run  down  and 
up  around  where  they  are  building  the  new  chapel." 

Caswell  went  out,  arranging  with  Jack  to  be  at  his  room  in 
Farnam  about  two  o'clock  the  next  day.  Holland  and  he  had  one 
of  the  show  rooms  in  college,  fitted  up  at  great  expense,  and  Jack 
wanted  his  father  to  see  it.  He  knew  that  General  Rives  would 
insist  on  going  about  in  the  colleges  and  buildings  to  a  certain 
extent,  and  he  was  going  to  depend  upon  Tutor  Dilworthy  and 
Dr.  Lyman  to  give  him  the  faculty's  view  of  his  son's  standing 
and  career.  The  rest  he  and  "Barney"  would  manage  very  well, 
in  a  long  drive,  and  a  broken  neck-yoke — anything  to  keep  the 
general  from  calling  on  his  old  chum  Professor  Shepard,  which  they 
feared  he  would  be  bound  to  do.  They  let  a  few  friends  know  of 
Jack's  arrival  and  went  down  to  see  old  man  Brood,  and  see  if  his 
Catawba  cobblers  were  as  rich  and  rare  as  Jack's  fancy  still 
painted  them.  They  took  in  Gradleys'  also,  Jack  keeping  on  his 
disguise  and  mystifying  Charlie  Gradley  not  a  little.  At  Mrs. 
Moriarty's  at  the  "Quiet  House,"  a  number  of  their  class  joined 
them  and  they  sat  up  to  a  late  hour  over  rounds  of  Welsh  rarebits 
and  that  rare  delicious  Burton  ale,  which  they  drank  then  out  of 
their  pewter  cups,  and  were  never  to  meet  with,  alas,  afterward 


266  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

in  the  cold  unsympathizing  postgraduate  world !  After  Mrs. 
Moriarty's,  Jack  wanted  to  serenade  the  fern,  sems.,  and  even  try 
for  the  famous  golden  tooth  which  hung  at  the  corner  of  York  and 
Elm  Streets.  But  Harry  persuaded  him  to  go  quietly  back  to  the 
room  and  to  bed,  where  next  morning  Jack  awoke  and  threw  a 
shoe  at  Alston  the  sweep,  in  the  same  old,  friendly,  sophomoric 
way ! 

Wednesday  arrived.  Harry  had  Alston  smuggle  in  a  capital 
breakfast  for  himself  and  Jack  from  the  New  Haven  House.  The 
kind-hearted  old  darky  entered  into  the  affair  with  great  zest  after 
Harry  gave  him  a  dollar  "extry."  The  breakfast  was  served  after 
recitation,  Jack  enjoying  the  luxury  of  sleeping  till  half  after 
nine,  and  Harry  attending  recitation  and  chapel,  as  he  had  often 
done  before,  on  an  empty  stomach.  A  lot  of  the  Gimly  gang 
silently  made  their  appearance — and  Jim  Danforth  skipped  out  and 
bought  a  couple  of  magnums  of  champagne.  They  pulled  down 
the  curtains  and  sat  around  the  room  smoking,  while  Jack  gave 
them  a  graphic  description  of  Stamp's  great  dog  fight  in  the  Mit- 
ford  Tavern  barn,  and  proceeded  to  make  them  envious  of  the  de 
lightful  life  he  was  having  on  the  Housatonic. 

"Imagine,"  said  Jack,  stuffing  his  mouth  with  the  broiled 
lobster  Alston  served  him,  "a  large  country  house  with  a  lawn 
sloping  down  to  the  river.  In  the  house  three  girls,  more  or 
less  young  and  more  or  less  pretty.  The  best  cooking  in  the 
world.  A  good  piano  in  the  parlor — we're  teaching  the  girls  how 
to  play  a  banjo.  And  as  if  that  were  not  enough,  opposite, 
behind  high  gates,  the  country  place  of  the  Dolphins  of  New  York. 
There  are  two  Dolphin  girls — full  of  the  mischief — spending  the 
winter  there,  and  a  stable  full  of  riding  horses.  Then  there  is 
Stratford  a  mile  one  way  and  Mitford  two  miles  the  other.  Fun ! 
We  have  the  greatest  fun  you  ever  saw — beats  Charmington  out  of 
sight — much  more  freedom,  you  know.  We  skate,  ride  horse 
back,  take  all  the  girls  to  New  York  for  a  matinee — Lord!  what 
fun  we  have!  Fill  up  the  glasses,  Alston!  and  go  out  and  fetch 
another  bottle.  I  wouldn't  miss  my  rustication  for  the  world. 
Lord!  how  I  pity  you  poor  devils,  made  to  go  to  recitation  three 


THE   GENERAL    VISITS  JACK.  267 

times  a  day,  while  we  sit  about,  make  love,  and  go  on  a  twenty- 
mile  canter  with  the  girls!  Here's  a  photograph  we  had  taken  in 
Bridgeport.  This  one  is  Annie  Mead,  that's  Marie  Dolphin. 
This  is  Louise  Dolphin,  isn't  she  a  beauty?" 

"How's  Stamp?"  someone  asked. 

"Stamp's  getting  out  again.  He's  a  little  lame  yet — and  he's 
cross  as  two  sticks.  But  he's  enjoying  the  country  mighty  well,  as 
Ted  and  I  are.  Talk  about  training  for  the  crew,  I  was  never 
more  fit  in  my  life.  Cassy  and  I  box  four  rounds  every  day  while 
Louise  Dolphin  holds  the  watch.  I  boxed  the  best  man  Stratford 
could  set  up  last  Saturday.  He  wasn't  in  it.  Caswell  is  for  get 
ting  a  Bridgeport  bruiser  down  and  having  it  out  with  him  for  a 
championship  badge,  but  I  say  No.  Stamp  says  so,  too.  He  and 
I  are  only  going  to  spar  with  gentlemen  'amatures'  after  this!" 
and  Jack  laughed  heartily. 

It  was  wonderful  to  see  the  effect  of  his  presence  on  Harry. 
Life  brightened  up  again  for  our  hero.  The  end  of  the  world  did 
not  seem  so  near  at  hand  while  Jack  was  about.  Things  put  on  a 
cheery,  hopeful  aspect.  Perhaps  Ella  Gerhart  would  not  go  to  the 
bad,  and  Clara  Hastings  would  show  a  little  concern  for  him  yet. 

General  Rives  shook  hands  with  the  boys  at  the  depot,  and  pre 
ferred  to  walk  rather  than  enter  Barney's  inviting  hack  at  the  top 
of  the  stairs.  He  wanted  to  stretch  his  legs,  he  said,  and  look 
about  a  little.  He  hadn't  been  in  New  Haven  for  many  years. 
He  wondered  when  it  would  be  the  best  time  to  go  and  call  on 
Professor  Shepard. 

Barney,  who  had  the  wink  from  Harry,  followed  along  slowly 
as  they  walked  up  Chapel  Street,  ready  at  the  slightest  nod  to  pull 
up,  and  take  them  off  for  a  drive.  He  knew  his  business. 

But  the  general  didn't  want  to  ride.  They  were  in  great  dread 
lest,  as  they  passed  old  Trinity  and  drew  near  the  colleges,  they 
would  meet  Professor  Shepard,  or  some  one  among  the  older  pro 
fessors,  whom  the  general  would  insist  upon  stopping  and  talk 
ing  with.  It  was  really  a  great  risk,  not  letting  him  know  of 
Jack's  suspension.  They  felt  certain  he  would  be  terribly  angry 


268  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

about  it,  if  he  knew.  Uncle  Dick  had  gone  so  far  as  to  volun 
teer  going  to  New  Haven  to  "steer"  him  away  from  all  dangerous 
shoals  and  reefs  of  the  faculty,  but  Harry  thought  this  was  not 
necessary. 

The  walk  up  to  the  New  Haven  House  was  fortunately  quite 
enough  for  him.  He  did  not  care  to  ride,  however,  even  then,  and 
so  they  walked  him  rapidly  over  to  their  room  in  South  Middle. 

"Ah,  the  old  brick  row,"  exclaimed  the  old  grad,  "just  the  same 
as  ever — not  a  brick  changed — looks  just  as  when  I  was  in  college. 
All  the  new  buildings  seem  to  be  up  about  the  north  end  of  the 
campus.  Suppose  we  go  up  there  and  walk  about;  we  may  run 
across  President  Stout." 

"Oh,  see  the  room  first!"  exclaimed  Harry  and  Jack  together. 

Rather  objecting  to  their  odd  insistence  the  general  went  up 
with  them,  and  had  a  glass  of  sherry  and  a  cigar.  They  seated 
him  as  far  away  from  the  window  as  possible,  and  listened  to  his 
reminiscences  of  the  old  college  life  of  long  ago. 

"Why,  this  very  room,"  he  said,  "used  to  be  occupied  by  two 
classmates  of  mine,  brothers — from  up  in  the  center  of  York 
State — Utica,  I  think.  They  were  tremendous  big  strong  fellows, 
and  they  had  a  standing  offer  of  ten  dollars  to  any  two  men  they 
couldn't  put  out  into  the  hall.  I  remember  once  they  broke  the 
door  clean  off  its  hinges.  The  only  fire  that  ever  occurred  when  I 
was  in  college  came  from  their  upsetting  their  stove.  Their  name 
was  Wright,  and  Ben  Wright  was  our  class  "bully" — always 
carried  the  banger  in  our  class  rushes.  I  guess  you  chaps  don't 
know  what  a  real  hard  banger  rush  means.  They  called  me  a 
fighter  in  the  war.  Well,  all  the  fighting  I  ever  learned,  I  learned 
in  those  banger  rushes." 

Then  after  a  pause,  and  a  puff  on  his  cigar,  with  a  drawl: 

"I  rather  like  a  college  man  beside  me  in  a  fight.  Oh,  but  now 
adays  I  imagine  college  life  is  very  tame.  You  are  good  hard 
working  schoolboys  now.  Well,  perhaps  it  is  better  so!" 

"We  are  more  studious,  we  have  to  study  so  hard,"  ventured 
Harry,  with  a  wink  at  Jack. 

"  Our  parents  sent  us  to  college  for  a  purpose,"  added  Jack,  "  and 


THE    GENERAL    VISITS  JACK.  269 

we  must  not  waste  our  time  in  rowing  and  fighting" — be  added  in 
a  whisper,  "What  a  joke  on  the  governor!  " 

The  general  looked  a  little  annoyed.  "Oh,  you'll  waste  time 
enough  in  one  way  or  another,"  he  said.  "Boys  at  college  always 
did,  always  will  waste  time.  But  a  real  hard  tight  now  and  then 
— yes,  it's  good  for  you." 

"I  wish  you'd  tell  us  how  you  lost  your  arm,"  said  Harry. 

"  Why,  it  was  a  saber  cut  down  to  the  bone,  before  Richmond. 
A  squad  of  cavalry  were  in  full  retreat,  and  I  saw  the  danger  of 
their  going  back  on  a  gallop  and  spreading  consternation  among 
the  troops  in  the  rear.  So  I  seized  a  fresh  horse  and  rushed  out 
and  stopped  them.  The  officer  said  that  they  could  do  little  with 
the  men,  and  begged  me  to  lead  them  back  for  at  least  one  charge. 
Well,  I  did  so.  The  enemy  met  us  with  a  counter-charge.  I  was 
unhorsed,  and  the  next  thing  I  knew,  I  felt  my  arm  drop  power 
less  at  my  side;  then  I  fainted  from  loss  of  blood.  That  was  all 
there  was  to  it;  they  had  to  amputate  my  arm  at  the  shoulder. 
But  now  I  think  I'll  go  over  and  see  Professor  Shepard." 

Both  lads  jumped  to  their  feet  at  once.  "It's  dinner  time; 
he'll  think  he  must  invite  you  to  dine,"  cried  Jack.  "Better  wait 
till  afternoon." 

"Oh,  no;  I  don't  think  I  need  to  dine  with  him,  but  we  will  see 
him  and  arrange  for  a  drive  later — we'll  take  out  Mrs.  Shepard 
also." 

"Was  Miss  Walker  in  your  day,  sir?  "  asked  Harry,  thinking  of 
the  pretty  college  "widow"  as  a  last  resort  topic. 

"There  were  several  of  that  name  I  think,  but  they  are  married, 
and  grandmothers  probably  by  this  time." 

As  they  were  going  out  of  the  room  Jim  Danforth  entered, 
having  run  up  the  short  wooden  stairs  two  steps  at  a  time. 

"  We  are  just  going  over  to  see  Professor  Shepard,"  said  Jack, 
with  a  horrified  stare.  Dan  quickly  took  in  the  situation  and 
acted  accordingly. 

"Why,  he  has  just  gone  down  Chapel  Street,  I  think,"  he  said. 

"Had  we  not  better  go  in  and  have  dinner  now,  then?"  urged 
Harry,  looking  at  his  watch.  "It's  one  o'clock." 


270 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


Dan  walked  with  them  over  to  the  hotel.  The  general  acqui 
esced  without  a  murmur. 

At  the  dinner  table,  he  was  full  of  reminiscence  of  college  life 
of  forty  years  ago,  the  town  and  gown  fights,  the  firemen's  fights, 
and  the  exciting  rows  of  other  days  long  forgotten.  He  remem 
bered  Danforth's  father  in  '44  very  well.  "A  little  red-cheeked 
little  rascal,"  he  laughed.  He  ordered  a  bottle  of  Pommery  Sec, 
and  set  up  around  of  pousse  cafes  after  dessert.  They  got  him  talk 
ing,  and  prolonged  the  dinner  as  late  as  they  could.  When  they 
came  out  on  the  street  and  walked  to  the  fence,  smoking  the  best 
regalias,  he  said  bluntly,  "I'd  like  to  go  over  to  Spade  and  Grave 
while  I'm  here."  To  Yale  sophomores  a  senior  society  is  the  "be 
all  and  end  all"  of  existence.  They  fairly  trembled  with  agitation 
to  hear  him  mention  it  in  such  an  off-hand  way.  Perhaps  the  next 
thing  he'd  do  in  his  "old  graduate  "  innocence  would  be  to  offer  to 
take  them  into  the  sacred  building ! 

Here  was  a  new  source  of  danger.  If  the  general  insisted  upon 
visiting  his  old  society  hall,  how  could  they  manage  to  prevent  his 
finding  out,  from  some  joking  allusion  or  other  from  some  senior, 
the  fact  of  Jack's  suspension? 

There  was  Barney  standing  there  by  the  door  and  winking  at 
them,  and  there,  coming  round  a  corner,  was  Professor  Shepard 
himself!  The  general  did  not  perceive  his  old  friend,  nor  he  him. 

"Come!"  cried  Harry  quickly,  "jump  in  this  carriage,  general, 
and  we'll  drive  right  around  to  Professor  Shepard's,  and  then  we 
can  take  a  ride  out  to  Hamilton  Park  and  around." 

They  did  so.  Barney  whipped  up,  drove  down  Chapel  Street  so 
that  they  need  not  pass  the  professor,  and  then  up  George  Street  to 
the  old  white  house  where  he  lived. 

Of  course  the  professor  was  out.  and  it  was  uncertain  when  he'd 
be  back.  Harry  climbed  up  on  the  driver's  seat  w,ith  Barney,  and 
looked  at  his  watch.  "He's  got  to  take  the  five  o'clock  train,  and 
it's  just  half -past  two  now." . 

Barney  winked  again.  "  We'll  go  out  to  West  Rock  first,"  said 
Barney,  "and  that  there  off  hosse's  collar  aint  goin'  to  last  more'n 
halfway  out! " 


THE    GENERAL    VISITS  JACK.  271 

Barney  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  drove  rapidly  about  the 
city,  up  Hillhouse  Avenue  and  out  Prospect  Street,  and  so  on  over 
toward  Hamilton  Park.-  The  afternoon  was  mild  and  pleasant. 
When  they  were  about  entering  the  Park,  the  hack  came  to  a 
stand. 

"Only  a  part  of  the  harness  broke,  that's  all,"  called  down  Harry 
from  the  driver's  seat. 

"Well,  well! "  said  the  general,  "I'm  afraid  I  shan't  get  to  see 
Professor  Shepard  after  all !  " 

And  he  began  to  look  rather  glum  and  gazed  at  his  watch. 

"You  can  run  down  some  other  time,"  said  Jack.  "It  only 
takes  two  hours  from  New  York." 

"Two  hours!  It  takes  a  whole  day,  and  do  you  think  a  whole 
day  is  nothing  to  me?  " 

"I  didn't  mean  it  that  way,  father.  But  you  know  this  is  your 
first  visit,  and  I  enjoy  having  you  come  so  much." 

The  general  looked  mollified.  "It  takes  me  back  to  my  early 
manhood,"  he  said.  "But  I — I  must  say,  Jack,  I — I'd  much  rather 
spend  my  time  on  the  campus  than  out  here  in  this  forlorn  place. 
What's  the  matter  with  the  harness?" 

"Oh,  it's  only  a  strap  thet's  bruk,"  said  honest  Barney.  "But 
it  tak's  toime  to  mend  it,  sor." 

The  general  was  out  of  the  carriage  in  a  moment,  giving  orders 
to  Barney  how  to  repair  the  harness.  It  may  be  confessed  that 
Barney  played  his  part  very  well,  and  it  took  him  a  mortal  half 
hour  before  he  was  willing  to  proceed.  The  general  fidgeted  and 
swore  once  or  twice  at  the  faithful  hackman's  stupidity.  Each 
time  he  swore  he  apologized.  "Jack,  Harry,  forgive  me.  I  didn't 
mean  it — army  habits,  boys;  that's  all.  Don't  mind  me,  and  doii't 
pattern  after  me!  Swearing  is  not  only  unnecessary — it's  ungen- 
tlemanly — [to  Barney]  you  damn  fool!  don't  you  see  the  strap 
will  not  work  if  you  twist  it  that  way?  It  reminds  me  of  our 
mule  trains  on  the  Shenandoah." 

When  they  got  back  to  town  Harry  bade  the  old  gentleman 
good-by  at  the  fence,  and  Jack  remained  with  him  in  the  car 
riage. 


272  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

"I  think  we  could  just  drive  over  to  Professor  Shepard's  door?  " 
he  suggested. 

"Just  toime  fer  to  git  to  the  train,"  sung  out  the  smiling 
Barney,  and  he  hurriedly  drove  them  off  down  Chapel  Street. 

"Jack,"  said  his  father  solemnly,  as  they  paused  behind  a  street 
car. 

"Yes,  father?" 

"You  must  be  in  debt?  /was  always  in  debt  in  college." 
J'No,  father." 
""""Eh?  not  in  debt?  eh,  my  son?" 

"No,  sir;  but  it's  only  by  the  strictest  economy,  father."  Jack 
looked  very  pious. 

"Your  mother  is  very  anxious  about  you,  Jack,  my  boy.  She 
doesn't  want  you  to  row  any  more." 

"Neither  does  Bob  Clark,"  laughed  Jack  carelessly. 

"Let  me  see — are  you  in  Brothers  or  Linonia,  my  boy?" 

"Neither." 

"You  must  join  one  or  the  other." 

"They  are  both  deader  than  door  nails!  " 

"Eh?  I'm  sorry  for  that.  Your  ridiculous  baseball  and  foot 
ball  and  boating  have  killed  those  best  debating  clubs  in  America! 
It's  a  shame,  Jack." 

"They  tried  to  revive  them,  but  it's  no  go." 

A  long  silence. 

"Jack  !" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"You  must  be  sure  and  go  to  Spade  and  Grave.  It  would  break 
my  heart,  Jack,  if  you  didn't.  That's  partly  what  I  came  up  here 
for,  Jack — you  and  Harry." 

"Well,  senior  year  is  'way  off." 

"Not  at  all.  Are  you  aware  that  you  will  be  elected  to  a  senior 
society  in  just  about  a  year  from  now?" 

"  Why,  that's  so !  " 

"  Now,  if  I'd  only  seen  Professor  Shepard " 

But  they  arrived  now,  opportunely,  at  the  depot.  Jack  stood 
m  great  awe  of  his  father,  who  was  usually  rather  stern  with  him, 


THE    GENERAL    VISITS  JACK.  273 

but  he  was  very  proud  of  him  and  his  armless  sleeve.  It  was  a 
pity  he  was  obliged  to  deceive  him!  Unsympathetic,  relentless, 
hard-hearted  parents;  to  what  lengths  you  drive  your  children 
when  vou  make  too  much  of  their  little  shortcomings! 

Jack  bade  his  father  an  affectionate  farewell  at  the  depot,  and 
saw  him  into  a  seat  in  the  smoking  car.  As  the  train  started  he 
jumped  on  the  last  car  of  the  train  himself.  At  the  Housatonic 
bridge  all  trains  stopped,  and  the  lad  slipped  off  in  the  darkness 
and  ran  half  a  mile  by  the  road  to  where  he  and  Caswell  were  stop 
ping  at  Mrs.  Mead's.  It  was  a  large  old-fashioned  country  house, 
with  a  lawn  sloping  down  to  the  river.  As  he  entered  the  door, 
Stamp,  who  had  now  nearly  recovered  from  his  fight  at  Mitford, 
and  who  was  on  the  watch,  ran  out  and  gave  a  joyous,  if  liusky 
bark.  Jack  took  his  head  in  his  hand,  tenderty. 

"No,  Stamp,  I  don't  deserve  any  of  your  honest  old  affection,"  he 
exclaimed  rather  dismally.  "It's  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  ever, 
in  any  way,  even  acted  a  lie  to  the  dear  old  governor! " 

But  Stamp  was  glad  to  see  him  all  the  same,  and  was  apparently 
of  the  opinion  that  the  deception  they  practiced  on  the  old  general 
was  done  with  a  motive  for  his  best  good.  For  in  what  way  do 
these  college  rustications  punish  anyone  but  the  innocent  parents? 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


EASTER    IN     NEW    YORK. 

NCLE  DICK  was  very  kind  to  Jack  at 
this  time,  and  carefully  kept  all  intelli 
gence  of  his  rustication  from  his  father. 
He  had  been  a  college  boy  himself  only 
half  a  dozen  years  or  so  before,  and  he'd 
been  rusticated  from  college  himself.  His  poor 
mother  had  been  driven  nearly  distracted  by  the 
terribly  gloomy  missives  of  the  faculty,  couched  in 
the  judicial  terms  of  a  criminal  court.  Of  course 
discipline  must  be  maintained  at  college,  butLyman 
believed  that  sorrow  for  nervous  mothers  and  stern  fathers  was 
not  the  faculty's  province. 

The  days  of  Easter  vacation  brought  Jack's  days  of  suspension 
to  an  end.  Caswell  and  he  came  back  for  their  examinations  in  the 
best  spirits  and  health.  Stamp  was  as  glad  to  get  back  as  they 
were,  and  what  a  triumph  the  dog  had  among  his  friends  in  South 
Middle !  He  enjoyed  college  life  at  its  best — there  were  no  reli 
gious  or  literary  exercises  for  him!  He  could  lie  in  the  sunny  win 
dow  ledge  of  their  South  Middle  room  and  sleep  the  hours  away, 
with  a  clear  conscience. 

When  they  left  college  for  home  Harry  said,  as  they  stepped  off 
the  train  at  the  Grand  Central  Depot: 

"  By  Jove !  almost  half  our  college  life  is  over,  and  yet  it  seems 
as  if  we  had  just  entered.  Thunder !  how  Tempus  does  f ugit !  " 

"Mr.  Chestleton!     Mr.  Chestleton!" 

Harry  and  Jack,  dressed  in  the  very  "latest,"  were  sauntering 
down  Fifth  Avenue,  laughing  and  talking  in  the  easy  manner  of 


EASTER   IN  NEW    YORK.  275 

college  lads  off  on  a  holiday,  a  few  days  later,  when  they  heard  this 
name  called. 

A  stylish  brougham  drove  up  to  the  sidewalk,  drawn  by  a  pair 
of  neat  little  gray  cobs  with  jingling  harness.  Clara  Hastings' 
beautiful  face  was  at  the  window. 

A  richly  dressed  lady  sat  by  Clara's  side,  who  was  presented  as 
"  Mrs.  Hargreav  e. " 

"I'm  spending  Easter  with  Bessie  Hargreave,  one  of  'our  set' 
at  Charmington,"  said  Clara  to  Harry.  "I  saw  you  go  past.  Oh, 
Mr.  Rives,  you  look  so  swell  I  really  shouldn't  have  known 
you !  " 

"Even  you  are  not  wearing  a  red  Tarn  o'Shanter  on  Fifth 
Avenue!  "  laughed  Jack,  admiring  her  great  and  truly  magnificent 
spring  hat.  "Tell  me,"  he  added  with  deliberate  intention,  "are 
you  going  to  the  theater  to-night?  if  so,  which  one;  I  want  to 
avoid  it." 

"What  I  wished  to  stop  and  say  was,"  and  Clara  glanced  at  a 
number  of  people  passing,  "that  1  am  at  No.  1111  Fiftieth  Street, 
West,  Will  you  not  call?  " 

Harry,  who  had  hardly  spoken  a  word,  blurted  out,  "Can't  I 
take  you  to  church  next  Sunday,  Easter,  you  k'now — anywhere  you 
say?" 

Clara  looked  down.  "Come  up  to-morrow  night,"  she  whis 
pered;  "we'll  talk  it  over."  Then  she  bowed;  Mrs.  Ilai'greave 
laughed  and  bowed,  and  the  brougham  rapidly  started  off  up  Fifth 
Avenue. 

He  called,  and  he  persuaded  Clara  that  Easter  morning  in  old 
Trinity  would  be  simply  "glorious."  Easter  would  have  been 
glorious  anywhere  with  the  idol  of  his  choice. 

Easter  morning  turned  out  bright,  warm,  and  fair,  as  it  usually 
is  in  the  "gayest  city  of  the  western  hemisphere,"  and  since  Clara 
Hastings  had  promised  him  to  go  down  to  old  Trinity  for  morning 
service,  could  anything  be  more  delightful?  Harry's  good  mother 
was  a  little  disappointed  that  he  was  not  going  to  church  with  her 
and  Kitty. 

Clara  was  waiting  for  him,  ready   for  church,  in  the   reception 


276  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

room  of  the  richly  decorated  Hargreave  mansion.  She  was  a 
vision  of  light,  pretty  spring  colors,  her  hat  something  very  large 
and  bewildering.  Beneath  it  her  lovely  dark  eyes  looked  up 
demurely  with  the-saintlike  air  of  a  young  religieuse.  She  was 
putting  on  her  gloves,  and  her  ivory-covered,  dainty  little  prayer- 
book,  with  its  gold  clasps  and  gold  cross,  lay  in  her  lap. 

He  had  the  suspicion,  without  knowing  it,  that  Bessie  Ilargreave 
had  just  left  the  room  as  he  entered.  He  thought  he  heard  a  faint 
rustling  of  her  dress  on  the  stairs'. 

"  Bessie  thinks  it's  perfectly  dreadful  for  me  to  go  off  to  church 
alone  with  a  young  man,"  said  Clara;  "but  I  promised  you,  Mr. 
Chestleton,  and  whenever  I  make  a  promise — 

"I  knew  you'd  do  it  for  me,"  he  said. 

And  instantly  she  rose,  and  they  went  out  down  the  high  stoop 
to  the  street. 

Out  of  the  house,  the  fresh  coolness  of  the  morning  air,  the 
sight  of  several  sweet  young  girls  going  with  their  fathers  and 
mothers  to  church,  restored  Clara  Hastings'  mental  balance.  They 
had  to  walk  a  block  or  two  to  Fiftieth  Street,  and  they  followed 
behind  three  pretty  young  girls  and  their  mamma. 

"Poor  girls!"  laughed  Harry. 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  see  the  queer  hats  and  queer  gowns  they  have  to  wear  to 
be  in  the  fashion!  The  hats — the  slightest  wind  will  carry  them 
off  to  the  top  of  yonder  building!  and — well,  I  pity  you  girls — 
but " 

"But,  you  are  going  to  say  it  is  all  very  becoming?" 

"Yes;  you  are  made  into  pretty  flowers — as  if  we  could  not  love 
and  admire  you  enough  as  you  are!" 

She  gave  him  a  bright  glance.  Many  turned  and  looked  at  the 
charming  girl.  She  had  never  seemed  so  lovely  to  Harr}r. 

The  day  was  so  bright  and  fair,  the  street  so  full  of  gayly  dressed 
churchgoers,  that  even  the  somber,  stately,  brown-stone  palaces 
on  either  side  seemed  to  smile.  Flowers  tinted  every  window. 

Swell  little  coupes  passed  them,  the  coachman  and  footman 
wearing  little  rosettes  of  violets.  The  grand  gloomy  avenue  could 


EASTER   IN  NEW    YORK.  277 

not  help  assuming  a  gayer,  more  good-natured  aspect  for  the 
nonce. 

They  turned  down  Fiftieth  Street  and  presently  his  mother,  in 
her  quiet  black,  and  Kitty,  decked  out  in  all  the  soft,  pretty, 
spring  Easter  colors,  passed  on  the  other  side.  His  mother  bowed 
and  put  up  her  lorgnette. 

"Mercy,  how  that  lady  stares!"  was  Clara's  comment. 

Harry  turned  red,  and  stammered: 

"That  is  my  mother  and  sister." 

"Oh,  I — of  course  she  stared,  to  see  her  son  being  carried  off 
by  a  strange  female !"  and  Clara  laughed. 

"Yes,  completely  carried  away  by  the  stranger!"  he  laughed. 

"Well,  she's  very  handsome.  I  like  her  face.  She  is  so  good- 
looking " 

"I  want  you  to  meet  her." 

Clara  walked  a  little  more  rapidly.  The  ground  was  getting 
a  little  "slippery,"  and  so  she  turned  the  subject. 

Going  up  the  elevated  stairs  she  said,  "I  once  said  that  you  and 
I — could  be  friends  if  you  beat  Harvard  next  June." 

"And  enemies  if  we  don't?" 

"There  are  several  very  nice  Harvard  men  in  Cleveland." 

"Ah,  yes!  but  you're  a  Yale  girl — double-dyed.  You  had  a 
brother  at  Yale,  and  I  know  you  never  could  bring  yourself  to 
look  at  a  Harvard  man  twice !" 

Harry  felt  less  tongue-tied  with  her  to-day  for  some  reason. 
All  the  way  down  to  Rector  Street  they  talked  and  laughed,  for 
getful  that  anyone  was  overhearing  them.  Very  young  people 
only  become  absorbed  in  this  Avay.  When  they  grow  older  they 
become  aware  that  people  are  within  hearing.  It  is  true  they  felt 
an  exhilaration  in  each  other's  presence.  How  does  love  begin? 
Is  it  not  when  thought  matches  thought,  and  ideas  spring  into 
existence,  never  dreamed  of  before,  under  the  magic  of  pretty 
eyes?  They  were  a  little  early,  and  so  obtained  very  good  seats 
far  up  before  the  beautiful  altar.  In  the  great  church  a  reverent 
feeling  took  possession  of  them.  The  solemn  air  of  the  old  vergers 
dressed  in  English  fashion,  the  simple  poor  folk  tiling  into  the  side 


278  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

aisles,  the  grandees  invading  the  pews  on  the  sides  of  the  middle 
aisle,  the  splendid  roll  of  the  great  organ  as  it  began  the  prelimi 
nary  music,  then  the  masses  of  pure  white  lilies  piled  high  over  the 
choir,  made  them  forget  each  other  in  the  reverent,  thrilling  sense 
that  they  were  in  God's  Holy  temple  upon  one  of  the  most  glorious 
festal  days  of  the  Church.  Clara  knelt  at  his  side,  and  he  felt  that 
as  she  prayed  he  was  in  her  thoughts.  The  subtle  perfume  which 
came  from  her  mingled  with  the  scent  of  the  church  flowers,  and 
his  heart  thrilled  with  feeling  as  they  stood  up  at  the  entrance  of 
the  clergy  and  choristers.  After  the  splendid  full  cathedral  choir 
service  they  went  slowly  out,  and  wandered  in  the  quaint  old 
burying-ground  which  points  its  quiet  lesson  opposite  Wall  Street 
and  the  great  stock-gambling  centers  of  America.  Jotted  down 
between  high  buildings,  the  old  graves  reared  their  headstones  in 
simple  rows,  many  of  them  fast  falling  into  decay  and  becoming 
indecipherable. 

"I  have  always  wanted  to  see  Charlotte  Temple's  grave,"  said 
Clara,  her  eyes  filled  with  a  sweet  enthusiasm,  the  result  of  the 
music  and  the  service.  Harry  followed  her  about  in  silence  until 
she  paused  before  a  simple  flat  stone  containing  the  name  and  date 
of  death  of  the  famous  love-stricken  girl.  What  the  tomb  of 
Abelard  and  Heloise  is  to  Paris,  Charlotte  Temple's  grave  is  to  New 
York — the  Mecca  of  lovers.  Harry  had  never  heard  of  it,  and  on 
" their  way  home  Clara  told  him  the  sad  story  as  she  had  read  of  it. 

"A  man  who  would  make  a  poor,  defenseless  girl  love  him  and 
then  desert  her  deserves " 

He  stopped  short.  A  cloud  came  over  his  face.  Had  he  be 
haved  so  very  honorably  with  Ella  Gerhart?  Was  it  for  him,  of 
all  men,  to  judge  harshly  the  whole  race? 

"Some  girls  are  not  so  defenseless,"  sighed  Clara.  "Men  may 
be  ever  so  manly,  but  a  girl  may  flirt  and  lead  them  on.  It  is  all 
in  the  way  one  is  brought  up.  Oh,  dear!  [she  turned  suddenly  to 
Harry  as  they  sat  in  the  elevated  car]  I  hope  I  never  said  anything 
to  you — to — lead  you  on." 

"No!"  he  laughed;  "I  just  follow  along  at  my  own  gait!"  and 
he  laughed, 


EASTER  IN  NEW    YORK,  279 

When  Harry  returned  home  his  mother  greeted  him  with  a  kiss. 
"She's  a  raving  beauty,"  she  said;  "I'll  say  that  for  her,  Harry." 

"Well,  she's  just  as  good  as  beautiful,"  he  replied  rather  sadly. 
"But  she  don't  care  a  rap  for  me,  nor  for  anyone.  Mother,"  he 
added  after  a  pause,  "I  wouldn't  want  her  to  know  about  Ella 
Gerhart.  She  would  think  me  an  awful  wretch." 

"Is  she  then  such  a  terrible  little  puritan?"  mused  his  mother. 
"She  has  such  charming  color — such  eyes!  Kitty  is  in  raptures 
over  her.  My  boy,  I  hope  she's  good;  remember  beauty  is  but 
skin-deep !" 

"Well,  she's  too  good  for  the  likes  of  me!"  and  the  dear  fellow 
laughed  dismally. 

So  Easter  vacation  passed  and  left  a  cloud  on  our  hero's  mental 
vision.  Clara  had  not  been  quite  the  same  girl  to  him  he  felt  she 
was  as  they  stood  by  the  "colony"  gate  in  Charmington.  Would 
she  ever  come  to  care  for  him?  His  vacation  had  been  an  odd 
mixture  of  love  and  practice  at  pitching  under  the  instruction  of 
Mr.  Mike  O'Toole,  a  professional  who  was  supposed  at  the  time  to 
be  the  greatest  ball  tosser  in  the  country.  O'Toole  knew  how  to 
put  a  "valuable  twist"  on  the  ball,  as  he  said,  and  Harry  profited 
greatly  by  his  instruction. 

The  theater  engrossed  his  evenings,  and  he  managed  to  have  a 
busy  time  of  it,  although  he  did  feel  a  little  discouraged  over  the 
"distance"  Clara  managed  to  keep  between  them.  His  sister 
Kitty  forbore  to  tease  him,  and  his  mother  asked  no  questions, 
Uncle  Dick  got  up  theater  parties,  and  had  the  Rives  family,  with 
their  pretty  young  daughter  Bessie  Rives,  down  to  a  dinner  and 
opera  party  afterward.  Bessie  and  Kitty  struck  up  a  warm 
friendship,  as  devoted  in  later  }rears  as  that  of  Harry  and  Jack. 
It  was  their  sole  ambition  at  the  time  to  go  to  Charmington  to 
school,  and  to  be  as  ardent  Yale  girls  as  their  devotion  to  their  two 
brothers  should  naturally  demand. 

At  the  dinner  table  the  two  oldgrads,  Lyman  and  General  Rives, 
told  many  yarns  of  college  life.  The  general  laughed  as  he  told 
the  story  how,  after  posting  a  notice  all  over  the  campus  that  there 
would  be  no  chapel  next  morning,  they  succeeded  in  turning  the 


280  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

chapel  bell  upside  down  and  filling  it  with  water  so  that  it  froze 
stiff  by  morning,  and  half  the  college,  not  hearing  any  bell,  slept 
in  peace  until  recitation  time !  Uncle  Dick  told  them  all  about  the 
famous  Wooden  Spoon,  a  feature  of  college  life  which  had  risen 
and  fallen  since  General  Rives'  time.  The  "Society  of  the  Cochle- 
aureati,"  he  said,  "started  in  1844.  It  was  more  or  less  intended 
as  a  burlesque  on  junior  exhibition  at  first.  I  remember  one  of  the 
early  old-time  jokes  was  a  colloquy  called  'Influence  of  humbug 
on  large  assemblies,'  and  it  was  stated  that  the  five  juniors  who 
were  to  take  part  in  it  would  commence  speaking  in  the  order  of 
their  names.  Well,  the  audience  waited  and  waited  until  .the  idea 
began  to  dawn  on  them  that  the  colloquy  was  a  practical  joke  on 
themselves.*  Another  joke  was  a  'March'  by  the  band,  in  which 
the  band  marched  down  the  aisle  and  back  again  with  their  in 
struments  slung  over  their  shoulders.  In  1857  'Music  by  Dod- 
worth's  band'  was  in  a  footnote  'excused  on  account  of  absence 
from  the  city!'  Sometimes  the  programmes  were  shot  out  of  a 
cannon  into  the  audience,  sometimes  ladled  out  of  a  big  bowl  with 
the  Wooden  Spoon.  E novem 'anus  was  the  name  of  the  'Coch,' 
Eno  in  '67,  the  'Innate  Gentleman'  stepping  out  of  a  figure  8 
in  '68.  The  'Inbred  Gentleman'  stepped  out  of  a  huge  loaf  of 
bread  in  '63.  'The  Perfect  Brick'  is  the  best  one  of  many,  and 
incloses  the  'Coch'  of  the  year  '62.  Other  'opening  loads,'  as 
they  were  called,  were  the  'Bursting  Shell,'  'Rise  in  Flour,'  and 
the  'Bird  of  Paradise;'  in  which  case  the  programme  casually 
stated  that,  'owing  to  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  the  animals  of 
Paradise  the  committee  decided  to  leave  out  the  opening  load.'  * 

"Those  old  college  shows,"  went  on  Uncle  Dick,  "  were  ten  times 
as  funny  as  any  'theatricals'  students  get  up  nowadays.  Students 
become  imitators  of  well-known  comic  actors  and  tragedians  when 
they  attempt  to  act  plays.  It's  a  pity,  a  great  pity,  the  Wooden 
Spoon  exhibition  is  given  up,  because  it  was  always  original,  and 
people  went  to  it  from  far  and  near  because  it  was  so  ridiculous. 
It  was  unique.  It  began  as  a  take  off  on  the  regular  exhibition,  in 
which  the  high-stand  men  alone  were  permitted  by  the  faculty  to 
*See  Mr.  Bagg's  "Four  years  at  Yale." 


EASTER   IX   NEW    YORK.  281 

take  part;  so  on  the  programmes  there  used  to  be  at  first  the  ora 
tion,  high  oration,  dissertation,  dispute,  colloquy,  philosophical 
oration,  etc.  The  subjects  of  these  orations  were  sometimes  ridic 
ulous  burlesques  of  the  queer  subjects  given  out  for  the  real 
exhibition  by  the  faculty,  vi/.,  'The  indeorepulsiveness  of  capil- 
laceotis  substances  if  electroly sized  by  catenarial  and  grindstonical 
agencies,'  'The  phosphorescence  of  putrescent  fire,  sublimated  in 
the  ecu-relation  and  conservation  of  invisible  luminosity.'  'The 
political  influence  of  peanuts  as  applied  to  elephants,'  'Elephants 
as  orators,'  'Ilairrangue  on  whiskers  by  a  man  named  Beard.'  I 
was  'Coch'  of  my  class,"  said  Lyman  proudly,  "and  I  regret  that 
the  Wooden  Spoon  isn't  still  an  institution.  People  will  go  far  to 
see  an  exhibition  of  real  student  life  as  it  is — they  don't  care  a  sou  to 
see  students  act  society  dramas  or  well-known  plays.  A  Greek 
play  is  different,  but  it  is  not  funny.  I  wish  you  boys  would  re 
vive  the  Wooden  Spoon.  The  take  off  on  the  ridiculously  solemn 
commencement  exercises  always  brought  down  the  house.  The 
night  before  we  used  to  have  a  ball,  which  became  the  Junior 
Promenade  as  it  is  now  held  at  the  present  time.  A  funny  bit  of 
college  life  can  always  be  turned  into  a  play  by  some  clever  student, 
and  it  is  the  life  on  the  fence  and  in  the  yard,  and  the  pleasant 
rooms  that  people  want  to  see  on  the  stage." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  General  Hives,  "that  a  great  deal  more 
goes  on  now  in  college  than  ever  did  in  my  day.  You  are  always 
having  these  tremendous  athletic  events,  and  you  must  spend  a  great 
deal  of  money  over  them.  In  my  day  we  used  to  have  more  debat 
ing  for  prizes,  more  public  oratory.  I'm  sorry  it  seems  to  have 
fallen  into  disfavor.  Where  now  are  Brothers  and  Linonia?" 

"Yes,  Brothers  and  Linonia,  two  societies  which  flourished  up  to 
my  day,"  said  Uncle  Dick,  "are  now  dead  and  forgotten.  These 
should  be  resurrected  at  the  same  time  with  the  witty  Wooden 
Spoon  exhibition — you  boys  run  too  much  to  athletics.  Only  a  few 
can  be  on  your  nines  and  crews  after  all.  There  should  be  exhibi 
tions  of  wit  and  brains  as  well  as  of  muscle." 

When  the  boys  went  back  to  college  they  did  try  to  talk  up  the 
Wooden  Spoon  among  their  classmates,  but  it  was  "no  go.'1  "An 


282  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

institution   once  dead  at  Yale   never  revives;"    such  indeed  has 
always  been  the  fact  in  the  history  of  Yale  organizations. 

Late  one  night,  soon  after  Harry's  return  to  college,  Grannis  came 
and  sat  in  his  window  in  the  moonlight.  "I  stopped  at  the  post 
office,"  he  said — "I  have  a  private  box — as  I  came  past,  although 
it  was  after  twelve.  I  found  a  letter  from  old  Father  Gerhart  at 
Cleveland.  The  business  promises  great  things,  Harry.  I'm  glad 
I  lent  him  the  money,  but " 

"  What's  the  matter?" 

He  knew  instinctively  that  there  was  something  wrong  about 
Ella. 

"Well,  Gerhart  writes  they  haven't  heard  a  word  from  Ella  for 
ten  days,  and  she  always  wrote  her  mother  every  two  or  three  days. 
She  isn't  with  her  sister,  but  is  in  a  'comedy  company,''  and  was 
playing  in  Chicago.  Harry,  I  am  afraid  something  has  happened 
to  that  girl.  Her  father  said  her  letters  were  very  melancholy 
of  late — and  as  if  some  dreadful  thing  had  happened  to 
her." 

Harry  moved  uneasily  where  he  sat.  Grannis — great,  strong 
man  that  he  was,  and  in  perfect  training  on  the  'varsity  for  the 
great  races  at  Saratoga — began  to  walk  to  and  fro  in  the  college 
room  in  a  state  of  deep  anxiety. 

"  Good  God!"  he  cried;  "if  she's  gone  wrong  it's  your  fault!" 
The  moon  poured  in  its  white  beams  across  the  window-sill,  where 
Harry  sat  in  silence,  holding  Stamp's  ugly  mug  in  his  hands. 
Grannis  was  in  his  'varsity  cap  and  blazer,  and  under  his  white 
flannel  sweater,  with  its  huge  blue  "Y,"  his  heart  bounded  as  it 
never  did  in  a  great  race.  His  "strength  was  as  the  strength  of 
ten;"  his  honest  face  was  knit  as  with  an  awful  strain.  Harry 
heard  his  words— and  wondered.  It  was  the  first  time  Grannis 
had  accused  him  of  any  wrong  to  Ella.  Why  did  the  keen  Wes 
terner  jump  to  such  a  conclusion  now?  His  face  was  full  of  intense 
feeling  as  Harry,  rising,  retorted: 

"My  fault?  I  treated  her  always  as  a  gentleman  should,  and 
while  I  was  crazy  over  her  for  a  while,  yet  I  always  respected  her 


EASTER   IN  NEW    YORK.  283 

— you  must  know  that,  Gran,  if  you  know  me.  And  now,  it  is 
all  over." 

Grannis  looked  deep  into  his  eyes,  and  shook  his  hand  silently. 
There  was  a  short  pause. 

"  Harry,  1  was  once  engaged  to  a  girl  who  died.  I  thought  I  loved 
her,  but  I  never  knew  what  love  was  until  I  saw  Ella.  It  is  a 
fierce  passion  which  burns  within  me.  It  crazes  me.  I  am  not  fit 
to  row  on  the  'varsity.  I  can't  study.  I  am  of  a  thousand  minds 
each  day.  You  know  I'm  twenty-eight  years  old — I've  been  in 
the  world  making  my  own  way  since  I  was  fourteen — this  quiet 
college  life  seems  small  to  me.  I  would  have  left  college  at 
Christmas  and  gone  out  into  the  electric  light  business  with  old 
Gerhart.  He  wants  me  to  come  now  to  Cleveland.  To-morrow, 
if  I  find  by  telegram  there  is  any  trouble  about  Ella,  I  shall  leave 
for  the  West.  I  don't  care  what  Bob  Clark  says.  Jack  Rives  is  a 
good  bow,  and  they  can  readjust  the  crew  easily  without  me,  and 
the  dear  boy  can  get  his  heart's  desire.  I  am  going  where  she  is 
— to  find  her,  if  I  have  to  go  to  Alaska.  I  shall  bring  her  back 
safe — and — and  if  she  is  not  married  I  shall  kill — the  man — 
who  has " 

He  spoke  slowly,  solemnly. 

"But  why  do  you  assume  such  a  dreadful  thing?" 

Grannis  shuddered.  "I  don't  know.  Oh,  I  can't  tell!"  he 
groaned. 

Harry  then  proceeded  to  confide  his  own  woes,  and  Grannis,  as 
he  heard  Harry's  confession  of  his  love  for  Clara,  assumed  a  more 
and  more  cheerful  aspect.  He  brightened  up  at  last,  and  said: 

"Then  Ella  is  no  longer— 

"My  dear  fellow,  that's  over!  " 

"I  thought  she  wrote  you." 

"No." 

"Sends  you  play-bills?" 

"Oh,  well— not  often." 

"You  don't  care  for  her?" 

"Yes — -I  want  to  look  out  for  her — for  her  own  yood!" 

Grannis  seized  his  hand  and  wrung  it  nearly  off. 


284 


COLLEGE  DAYS. 


"Take  care!  I  want  to  pitch  another  Harvard  game  »  laughed 
Harry  Grannis  went  out  softly,  looked  back,  said,  "  Good-night 
_.see  you  before  I  go-if  1  go-to-morrow,  old  boy  " 

The  honest  Westerner  went  up  stairs  to  his  old  South  Middle 


room    with    a 
Both        these 
shoots  of  the 
West  thought 
more   of  each 
that  midnight 
than  ever  be- 
But     the 
Grannis  came 
with    a    tele- 
hand  .       H  e 
valise  and  left 
train  for  New 
Gerhart     had 
from,         and 
termined      to 
of  her.     And 
obtained     his 
He  pulled  on 
'varsity    that 
nis'  place. 

To  Umpty- 
ly,  and  to 
in  college,  it 
a  terrible 
Gran  to  do  at 
because  he 
portant  man 


BOB  CLARK  CRUMPLED  UP 
PAPER. 


HIS  MORNING 


lighter  heart. 
young  off- 
East  and  the 
a  great  deal 
other,  after 
conversation, 
fore. 

next  morning 
in      hurriedly 
gram    in    his 
packed  his 
on    the    noon 
York.        Ella 
not  been  heard 
Grannis      de- 
start  in  search 
so  Jack  Rives 
heart's  desire, 
the         year's 
year  in  Gran- 
four    general- 
all  his  friends 
seemed  at  first 
thing  for  Old 
this  juncture, 
was     an     im- 
on    the    'var 


sity  crew  and  Bob  Clark  depended  on  him  for  a  seat  in  the  waist. 
But  yet  Harry  knew  that  Grannis  was  right.  Ella  Gerhart  must  be 
saved!  Her  life  was  more  important  to  Grannis,  who  was  infatu 
ated  with  her,  than  a  dozen  boat  races,  lie  kept  the  true  cause  for 


EASTER    IN  NEW    YORK. 


285 


Grannis'  sudden  departure  a  secret,  and  attributed  it  among  bis 
classmates  as  due  to  a  business  opening.  It  created  a  great  stir  in 
college,  and  the  New  Haven  papers  actually  hinted  tbat  Harvard  had 
bought  the  Yale  giant  off!  His  leaving  college  was  first  announced 
in  the  Palladium  of  Liberty,  there  was  no  college  daily  then, 

and  Bob  Clark  crum 
pled  up  his  morning 
paper  and  swore  dire 
ful  oaths  when  he  heard 
of  Grannis'  "defalca 
tion."  The  latter  wrote 
him  a  letter  from  Cleve 
land,  and  said  briefly 
that,  owing  to  business, 
he  was  obliged  to  leave 
college,  perhaps  for 
good. 

Grannis  also  wrote  out 
a  letter  on  a  typewriter 
for  his  mother  to  sign 
at  Keokuk,  and  send  to 
President  Stout  in  Kew 
Haven,  explanatory  of 
his  sudden  departure 
to  the  faculty.  His 
mother,  who  for  many 
years  had  been  sup 
ported  and  kept  in  comparative  luxury  by  her  son,  always  obeyed 
him  implicitly.  She  believed  "her  boy"  was  the  salt  of  the 
earth — everything  he  did  was  simply  perfect. 

She  usually  inclosed  the  faculty's  letters  concerning  Gran  back 
to  him,  unopened;  and  he  sent  out  letters  for  her  to  send  in  reply 
—pious  letters  they  Were,  too,  full  of  praise  for  her  "hard-work 
ing,  studious  son."  He  took  great  delight  in  these  facetious 
replies  to  the  faculty,  and  got  Nevers  to  help  him  with  Scripture 
phrases  and  Latin  quotations.  It  amused  Grannis  most  of  all  to 


A    TROPHY. 


286  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

hear  his  division  officer,  Tutor  Blakely,  say:  "Mr.  Grannis,  you 
have  a  noble  mother,  sir,  a  noble  mother !  "  and  then  read  him  pas 
sages  from  the  letter  he  had  himself  written! 

The  next  day,  after  the  honest  Westerner  left  town,  Jack  was 
recuperating  from  his  Theta  Psi  "bum"  of  the  night  before.  Out 
in  the  sunny  harbor  he  went  with  the  crew  that  day,  and  a  more 
pitiful  sight  of  cruelty  to  animals  than  poor  Jack,  after  that  eight- 
mile  row  in  the  broiling  sun,  could  not  be  seen  on  any  canal  tow- 
path!  Bob  Clark  cursed  him  for  an  awkward  clown,  and  he  got 
the  boat  once  nearly  upset  against  an  oyster  stake  by  his  wild 
steering.  It  was  quite  possible  that  the  astute  Bob  was  aware  of 
the  condition  of  the  bow-oar  the  night  before,  and  so  resolved  to 
"take  it  out  of  him."  Jack  went  to  bed  early  that  night,  sore  as 
an  old  stage-horse,  but  happy  as  a  clam  at  high  tide.  Bob  had 
told  him  he  could  row  until  Grannis  got  back,  and  Grannis  never 
came  back.  So  Jack  rowed  on  the  'varsity  crew  at  the  end  of  his 
sophomore  year. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 


"  SKINNING"  METHODS. 

RANTING  that  tlie  numerous  athletic 
and  social  events  of  college  life  absorb 
a  large  portion  of  the  students'  time,  the 
reader  must  not  imagine  that  our  sopho 
more  friends  did  not  have  to  apply  them 
selves  pretty  closely  to  their  books. 

The  second  term,  soph  year,  was  al 
ways  the  "toughest"  of  the  four.  In 
freshman  year  Umpty-four  had  dropped 
twenty-seven  men.  At  the  end  of  the 
first  term,  soph  year,  six  more  had  to 

depart  for  'pastures  new.'  Others  carne  in  and  filled  their  places, 
so  that  the  size  of  the  class  was  still  about  the  same.  Many  were 
the  methods  adopted  by  the  low  standers  to  scrape  along  and  pass 
the  term  examinations.  Xo  one  can  appreciate  the  misery  of  their 
existence.  It  takes  a  peculiar  gift  (rather  common  perhaps  among 
all  Americans)  to  stand  and  deliver  suddenly  all  one  knows  of  a 
subject.  Some  men  are  thrown  into  a  state  of  hopeless  mental 
confusion.  This  helplessness,  combined  with  a  lack  of  good  pre 
paratory  drill,  has  made,  to  some,  the  four  years  at  Yale  a  period  of 
mental  disquiet  and  despair.  They  resort  to  every  sort  of  trick  to 
get  a  good  mark.  Caswell  was  an  adept  at  "skinning."  By  this 
word  is  meant  any  scheme  by  which  a  high  mark  is  obtained  by 
what  the  faculty  would  term  to  be  "wanton  and  corrupt"  means. 
Every  known  device  for  escaping  that  awful  announcement,  "Mr. 
Blank,  you  are  below  average,"  was  tried  and  often  found  wanting 
by  Caswell,  Holland,  and  their  "set,"  More  time  and  ingenuity 
were  wasted  in  concoctin  schemes  to  outwit  their  examining  tutor 


288  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

or  professor  than  it  would  have  taken  to  learn  their  subject  ten  times 
over.  Shiny  boots  could  be  written  upon  with  a  soft  lead  pencil; 
finger  nails  could  be  covered  with  fine  diagrams  in  ink;  shirt  cuffs 
could  be  written  upon  inside  and  out  and  covered  with  the  "inter 
esting"  formulas — anything  to  make  a  "rush,"  as  the  successful 
recitation  was  called. 

Caswell  had  the  greatest  number  of  "devices."  Tutor  Blakely, 
in  his  tremendous  enthusiasm  for  Demosthenes,  made  the  class 
commit  to  memory  an  analysis  of  each  oration;  and  the  phrase 
"a  digression  to  establish  two  points"  became  a  sort 'of  slang  in 
the  class  ever  afterward.  To  Caswell  and  Rives,  who  were  out  the 
first  half  of  the  winter  term,  the  committing  to  memory  of  these 
long  analyses  was  as  bad  as  Professor  Walker's  Euclid  "exams." 
Caswell  gave  it  up  in  despair.  Then  he  conceived  the  scheme  of 
having  the  analysis,  which  had  been  given  out  by  the  tutor  in 
printed  form,  photographed  minutely,  so  as  to  be  held  easily  in  the 
palm  of  the  hand.  He  had  a  number  of  these  little  photograph 
books  made,  and  the  fourth  division  of  low  standers  had  little  diffi 
culty  in  making  the  most  brilliant  rushes  on  this  part  of  the  exami 
nation.  Caswell  carried  a  "pony"  of  the  text  boldly  in  an 
improvised  inside  pocket.  Tutor  Blakely  was  near-sighted,  and 
he  made  a  dead  rush  on  the  translation  also.  He  missed  fire  on  a 
number  of  questions  as  to  the  use  of  the  second  aorist  and  the 
pluperfect  subjunctive,  but  he  caught  the  whisper  sung  up  to  him 
from  a  back  seat  as  to  several  of  these,  and  succeeded  in  fetching 
himself  through.  Neither  he  nor  Jack  had  studied  more  than  an 
hour  a  day  during  their  suspension.  There  were  too  many  horse 
back  rides,  too  many  pretty  girls,  too  much  shooting  along  the 
Sound  marshes  for  study ! 

The  recitation  room  for  conic  sections  was  on  the  second  story  of 
the  Athenanim,  and  it  was  a  very  easy  matter  for  the  "glorious 
fourth"  as  it  was  called,  to  engage  a  confederate  to  show  up  on  a 
blackboard  in  South  Middle  the  diagram,  theorem,  and  proof,  as 
soon  as  he  knew  what  the  man  sent  up  to  the  board  wanted.  The 
distance  between  the  buildings  was  not  more  than  ten  feet  and 
Tutor  Beck,  the  mathematical  instructor,  sat  at  the  opposite  corner 


"SKINNING"    METHODS.  289 

of  the  room.  The  first  tiling  Caswell  did,  when  he  was  given  his 
problem  on  the  board,  was  to  write  out  in  large  letters  exactly  what 
was  wanted  of  him.  This  telegraphed  to  the  confederate  in  the  bed 
room  in  South  Middle  exactly  what  he  wanted  to  know.  It  also 
gave  Holland  and  others  an  idea  of  what  "Gassy"  was  struggling 
over,  and  whatever  skinning  paper  or  information  of  any  kind  that 
any  of  the  honest  fellows  had  was  at  once  at  Caswell's  service.  But 
his  confederate  outside  got  to  work  at  once,  and  Caswell  copied 
down  the  figure  in  fine  shape  from  his  blackboard  held  to  the  win 
dow.  They  had  arranged  a  signal  to  be  given  by  Caswell  of  A.  A., 
in  case  the  tutor  took  it  in  his  head  to  walk  across  the  room  and 
play  the  detective.  Tutor  Beck,  rather  wondering  at  Caswell's 
accurate  figure,  lettered  exactly  as  it  was  in  the  text-book,  thought 
he  would  watch  him  from  a  nearer  standpoint.  Caswell  at  once 
put  up  his  signal  A.  A.  at  top  of  the  board,  and  the  confederate 
and  blackboard  dropped  out  of  sight.  Presently  the  tutor  went 
back  to  his  seat  without  having  discovered  anything  wrong,  but 
Caswell  in  his  trepidation  forgot  to  take  down  his  signal.  Of 
course  his  friend  outside  did  not  put  up  his  blackboard  again. 
Caswell  was  in  despair.  He  stood  feebly  making  letters,  which  he 
would  rub  out  with  the  same  care  with  which  he  wrote  them 
down. 

"Don't  you  think  you  had  better  take  your  seat,  Mr.  Caswell?" 
said  Tutor  Beck.  "You  don't  seem  to  be  getting  on  — 

"Oh,  it  will  come  to  me  in  a  moment,  sir,"  said  Caswell  hope 
fully. 

Tutor  Beck,  who  was  good-natured  enough  to  want  Caswell  to 
succeed,  smiled  and  went  on  with  another  man. 

Meanwhile  Caswell  by  accident  rubbed  out  his  signal.  Instantly 
up  went  his  long  desired  blackboard  at  the  South  Middle  window 
again.  Caswell,  who  was  an  impulsive  sort  of  fellow  gave  an 
exclamation  of  delight.  The  tutor  noticed  it  and  looked  around. 

"I've  got  it,"  cried  Caswell,  while  all  the  division  smiled;  "I 
knew  it  would  come  to  me  at  lost!" 

Caswell  gave  a  dinner  at  Gra'd ley's  to  a  number  of  his  low-stand 
friends  afterward,  and  they  organized  themselves  into  a  regular 


290  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"ring"  or  club  for  the  purpose  of,  as  they  expressed  it,  "staying 
in  college  to  spite  the  faculty." 

Harry  and  Jack  were  safely  ensconced  in  the  second  division. 
They  used  to  laugh  at  Caswell  and  Holland,  and  inquire  why  they 
expended  their  energies  upon  these  nefarious  skinning  schemes. 

"I  don't  know,"  laughed  Holland,  "I  suppose  it's  love  of  excite 
ment.  I  wouldn't  be  safe  in  the  first  or  second  or  even  third  divi 
sion  for  a  thousand  dollars.  There  is  no  interest  in  a  recitation, 
if  you  don't  know  that  a  flunk  will  possibly  send  you  below  aver 
age.  I  tell  you,  Harry,  I  have  moments  of  the  highest,  most  tense 
nervous  excitement  in  recitation,  which  you  fellows  never  can  ex 
perience.  It's  a  sort  of  gambler's  life.  In  our  low-stand  set — the 
best  fellows  in  the  class,  you  must  admit — we  regularly  form  a 
pool  before  each  recitation;  we  each  chip  in  a  dollar,  and  pick  out 
what  problem  we  think  is  absolutely  unrecitable.  If  any  of  us 
get  yanked  up  on  that  problem  he  gets  the  pot,  or  if  two  or  three 
are  called  to  do  it  the  pot  is  divided  between  them." 

"A  new  way  to  make  recitations  interesting,"  Harry  laughed. 

"Well,  it  consoles  a  man  who  makes  a  flunk,"  replied  Holland. 

They  were  sitting  in  Harry's  room  before  the  fire  one  morning 
shortly  after  summer  term  opened.  The  weather  was  raw  and 
damp  "regular  New  Haven  weather,"  and  a  number  of  fellows 
had  gathered  to  discuss  reorganizing  the  Umpty-four  baseball 
nine.  Holland  was  there  in  a  reminiscent  mood.  "Did  you  ever 
hear  how  it  was  Cassy  and  I  Avere  dropped?"  he  asked.  "We've 
kept  it  a  profound  secret,  but  I  don't  mind  telling  you  fellows." 

"Go  on;  we  won't  pipe  it,"  said  half  a  dozen  at  once. 

"It  was  at  Thanksgiving  time  a  year  ago,  and  Cassy  and  I  knew 
mighty  well  that  we  both  stood  way  down  on  the  subcellar  floor, 
not  'one-ninth  of  one  hundredth  of  a  degree,'  as  Professor  Maynard 
says,  above  average,  either  of  us.  We  hit  upon  the  scheme  of 
'making  up'  recitations  in  chemistry.  Professor  Wells  we  found 
marked  a  fellow  very  much  higher  if  he  made  up  a  recitation  in 
good  shape.  We  cut  half  a  dozen  chemistry  recitations,  taking 
care  to  see  that  our  excuses  were  accepted,  and  Professor  Wells  ar 
ranged  a  certain  Saturday  morning  to  hear  us  make  them  up.  We 


' '  SKINNING  "   ME  THODS.  2  9 1 

knew  that  if  we  passed  well  above  average  it  would  bring  us  up 
iii  trigonometry  and  in  Latin,  in  which  we  were  lowest  of  all,  but 
if  we  fizzled  it  meant  'drop.' 

"The  first  thing  we  did  was  to  buy  a  box  of  chalk  crayons  similar 
to  those  used  at  the  board.  We  hardened  these  by  soaking  them 
in  alum  jvater,  and  covered  them  with  diagrams,  and  everything 
in  the  lesson  we  knew  would  prove  'interesting.'  We  had  thus 
five  chalk  pencils  arranged  in  each  of  our  five  pockets,  and  of 
course  if  Gassy  needed  one  of  mine,  or  I  one  of  his,  we  very  easily 
exchanged  our  chalk.  He  would  lay  his  piece  which  I  wanted 
down  in  the  rack,  and  I  would  absent-mindedly  pick  it  up  and  use 
it,  or  we'd  reverse  the  operation.  We  worked  away  right  merrily, 
and  Professor  Wells  had  no  reason  to  suspect  anything.  When 
he  approached  near  where  we  were  at  work,  we'd  slip  the  chalk 
into  a  pocket.  We  wore  our  patent  examination  coats,  you  know, 
full  of  inside  pockets.  Well,  we'd  nearly  got  the  work  done,  and 
done  in  best  first  division  style  too,  I  can  tell  you,  when  Caswell 
by  accident  dropped  his  piece  of  chalk,  and  it  rolled  across  the 
floor  to  where  Professor  Wells  was  standing.  Caswell  made  a 
c1  ve  for  it,  but  old  Wells  picked  it  up,  apparently  didn't  notice  it 
very  especially,  and  handed  it  back  to  him.  At  the  close  of  the 
examination  he  coolly  complimented  us  very  highly  on  our  work, 
and  then  asked  to  see  the  piece  of  chalk  that  had  dropped.  Ted 
promptly  gave  him  anew  clean  piece.  But  you  ought  to  have  seen 
his  'childlike  and  bland'  smile.  'I  mean  the  piece  of  chalk  with 
the  formulae  on  it,'  he  said  quietly.  Of  course  the  jig  was  up. 
Caswell  shook  hands  with  the  professor  and  asked  him  to  be  as 
lenient  as  possible.  He  smiled  again,  and— well,  we  were  quietly 
dropped." 

Presently  they  all  went  out  and  strolled  over  to  the  fence. 
What  a  pleasant  rendezvous  on  a  May  morning!  It  was  the  center 
of  college  life.  To  an  old  graduate  the  dear  place  does  not  look 
the  same,  with  that  gorgeous  "efflorescence  in  brown  stone" — the 
Osborne  Hall  entrance.  Much  of  the  democratic,  popular  student 
life  passed  away  with  the  removal  of  the  fence. 

On  this  especial  warm  May  day,  the  sophs  were  regaled  by  a 


292  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

strolling  Italian  "harpist"  and  a  squeaking  fiddler,  who  gave  "II 
Trovatore"  in  grand  style.  Then  presently  there  was  a  tremendous 
Halloa!  and  Hannibal,  a  dapper  young  darky,  comes  along,  sell 
ing  his  "natty,  unique  Turkish  caramels"  at  ten  cents  a  paper.  On 
other  days  it  is  Candy  Sam  "who  gropes  his  sightless  way  along" 
and  sells  his  "choice  'lasses  candy,"  or  perhaps  it  is  a  day  when 
Daniel  Pratt,  the  great  American  traveler,  has  happened  in  town. 
If  so,  the  students  mass  about  him,  stand  him  on  the  roots  of  an 
elm,  and  before  he  has  got  well  started  on  his  oration  rush  him 
bodily  down  the  street,  where  some  generous  soph  treats  him  to 
a  glass  of  beer.* 

Soon  it  became  one  o'clock,  and  the  soph  eating  club  to  which 
Harry  and  Jack  belonged  strolled  over  in  a  body  to  their  quarters 
on  Elm  Street.  Jack  announced  at  dinner  in  as  pleasant  a  tone  of 
voice  as  he  could  command  that  the  'varsity  crew  had  at  last  been 
definitely  made  up  without  him.  Bob  Clark  had  come  to  him  and 
with  real  regret  told  him  that  he  was  just  a  little  too  light.  There 
was  no  question  about  his  pluck  or  his  nerve.  It  was  a  keen  and 
bitter  disappointment  to  Jack,  who  pretended  he  didn't  care  a  rap, 
and  who  said  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  not  to  act  as  first  sub 
stitute,  but  to  go  out  of  training  altogether.  After  dinner,  and 
before  going  out  to  Hamilton  Park  to  practice,  Harry  ran  over  to 
Clark's  room.  The  famous  stroke  was  lying  on  a  sofa,  his  feet 
against  the  mantel  shelf,  talking  to  three  or  four  members  of  the 
crew. 

"7" don't  know  as  I've  done  the  wisest  thing,"  he  was  saying. 
"Young  Rives  is  very  plucky,  but  Grossman  is  stronger,  if  a  little 
bit  clumsy,  but  a  bow  oar  must  keep  his  nerve " 

Harry  overheard  this  as  he  entered. 

The  men  shook  hands  with  him,  and  there  was  an  awkward 
silence.  "I  suppose  you've  come  around  to  d — n  me  for  crowding 
off  your  chum,"  said  Clark  with  that  easy  indifference  for  which 
he  was  celebrated. 

*  Pratt  was  a  most  curious,  half  crazy  traveler  from  college  to  college  in 
those  days.  He  used  to  turn  up  at  every  Xew  England  college  at  least  once 
a  year.  Whether  he  went  on  foot  or  not  was  never  known.  His  "  orations  " 
were  always  upon  the  Degeneracy  of  Modem  Politics. 


"  SKINNING "   METHODS.  293 

"I  wanted  to  ask  why  you  suddenly  made  up  your  mind  to  do  it 
— it's  broken  him  up — as  he's  been  rowing  with  the  crew  all  the 
week." 

"He  isn't  the  right  weight  to  balance  the  boat." 

"He  weighs  too  little?" 

"There  are  more  reasons  than  one.  I  want  to  favor  Jack  Rives 
— he's  plucky  and  a  good  oar — but  it's  strength  I  want.  I've 
thought  the  thing  over  carefully.  I  don't  say  he  won't  row 
Harvard.  But  I  want  to  have  the  best — that  is  in  my  opinion  the 
best — material  used.  Now  I'll  say  this:  I  may  put  Rives  back 
on  the  crew  within  three  weeks  of  the  race.  Tell  him  I  want  to 
see  him,  and  don't  let  him  break  training." 

"I'll  tell  him— he's  going  to  row!"  And  Harry  left  the  room 
with  a  light  heart. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 


COLLEGE    FLIKTS. 

~~\T~OW  again  rolled  round  those  pleas- 
-i-N  ant  spring  days  'neatb  the  elms, 
when  every  night  at  the  fence  many 
songs  were  heard,  and  fun  went  on  and 
jollity.  There  was  always  the  Italian 
"band" — a  violin,  a  harp,  and  a^flute — 
who  played  for  coppers  after  supper  in 
the  long  evenings.  Nevers  and  Harry 
often  sat  late  together  chatting,  reading, 
fixing  up  some  trifle  or  some  trophy,  or 
smoking  and  talking  of  Grannis  and  his  search  for  the  lost  Ella 
Gerhart.  Now  and  then  letters  came  from  him  in  some  queer,  out- 
of-the-way  place  in  Omaha  or  Idaho,  where  he  had  had  traces  of  her. 
All  this  was  a  secret.  Harry  did  not  even  confide  in  the  garrulous, 
good-hearted  Jack.  Nevers  alone  knew. 

The  warm  baking  Saturday  in  June  came  for  the  first  Harvard 
"roasting,"  and  Harry  covered  himself  with  glory  by  striking  out 
fourteen  men.  He  no  longer  felt  stage-fright,  surrounded  by  the 
"'rah-'rahing  mob."  Jim  Danforth  and  he,  the  great  "battery," 
played  with  the  coolness  of  professionals.  A  great  crowd  of  grad 
uates  from  New  York  and  Hartford  and  from  everywhere  were 
out  at  Hamilton  Park  to  see  Harvard  "waxed"  for  the  first  time  in 
the  history  of  baseball  contests.  They  felt  sure  of  the  game  from 
the  start.  It  was  a  sort  of  walk-over.  The  Harvard  nine  were 
now  on  the  anxious  seat,  as  Yale  was  the  year  before.  When 
Harry  walked  out  into  the  field  there  were  tremendous  'rah-'rah- 
'rahs  for  the  crack  college  pitcher  of  the  year.  The  game  all 
through  was  very  one-sided.  It  was  evidently,  to  all  beholders, 


COLLEGE   FLIRTS.  295 

Harvard's  off  year  in  baseball.  The  score  was  6  to  2,  and  if  the 
Yale  team  had  been  pressed  it  could  easily  have  doubled  the  score. 
That  is  to  say,  it  looked  so,  though  baseball  is  "mighty  unsartin," 
and  there  is  no  telling  how  a  game  inlyht  have  been  played.  The 
great  American  outdoor  game,  as  played  by  the  college  teams,  is 
never  ended  till  the  last  man  is  out.  That  day  in  the  box  Harry 
sported  a  diamond-shaped  pin  for  the  first  time  on  his  jersey,  bear 
ing  the  mystic  Greek  letters  B.  K.  E.  The  initiation  into  the 
junior  society  took  place  the  night  before,  and  Harry  was  excused 
early  on  account  of  the  game.  Professor  Walker  and  Miss  Walker, 
with  Miss  Daisy  Stevenson  and  a  tremendous  number  of  girls  whose 
faces  seemed  familiar,  but  whose  names  were  forgotten,  beamed 
with  sisterly  affection  from  the  grand  stand.  There  was  no  ques 
tion  to-day  of  their  support — and  of  everyone's  support  and  sym 
pathy.  If  he  did  make  some  little  error  it  was  quickly  forgiven, 
quickly  condoned.  Dan  might  throw  ten  feet  over  second — the 
crowd  laughed  and  enjoyed  it — they  felt  so  sure  of  him — and  of 
the  game.  Men  of  all  ages  enjoy  a  college  game,  first  because  it  is 
played  for  "blood,"  as  the  sporting  phrase  is,  and,  secondly,  it  is 
the  one  game  every  boy  plays  from  his  infancy.  Tliey  understand 
it.  It  is  inborn  in  them,  as  cricket  is  inborn  in  an  Englishman. 
The  defect  of  the  game,  as  compared  with  cricket,  is  that  it 
requires  training  to  play  it.  Not  everyone  can  catch  a  swift- 
thrown  ball,  and  not  every  old  player  is  in  a  condition  to  catch 
one,  or  to  throw  one  accurately,  while  cricket — anyone  can  play 
it  after  a  fashion  without  any  extra  preparation.  It  is  strange 
that  neither  game  makes  much  headway  in  an  adopted  country. 
Baseball  is  such  a  pretty  game — and  so  neat  and  so  decisive  when 
rapidly  and  scientifically  played  ! 

Harry  and  Jack  went  around  to  tea  at  Professor  Walker's  after 
the  game,  and  Clara  Hastings  was  there  in  a  soft,  white  mull  gown 
with  a  bunch  of  roses  at  her  slim,  pretty  waist.  She  went  at 
Harry  with  airy  persiflage,  taxing  him  with  avoiding  her  glance 
at  the  game,  and  with  a  desire  to  avoid  her  generally !  There  were 
several  upper-class  men  present — but  Harry  was  the  lion  of  the 
evening.  It  seemed  to  him  that  it  was  only  because  he  had  won  a 


296  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

Harvard  game  that  day,  that  the  beautiful  girl  noticed  him  at' all. 
She  had  no  regard  for  him,  but  she  liked  to  monopolize  so  distin 
guished  a  young  man,  for  the  nonce,  and  have  him  at  her  feet. 

The  Walkers  had  a  pretty  garden  behind  the  old-fashioned  house, 
divided  by  the  professor  into  mathematical  figures  by  box  borders. 
After  tea  on  the  veranda,  Clara  and  Harry  walked  in  the  garden. 
She  had  a  beauty  of  the  aggressive  kind — it  drove  men  wild  and 
forbade  any  rational  conversation.  He  could  only  compare  the 
roses  to  her  and  quote  poetry,  and  swear  that  she  made  his  life 
wretched  for  him  and  that  she  knew  it,  and  that  she  was  heartless 
and  cruel  to  him. 

"Love — there  is  no  such  thing,"  she  laughed,  pulling  the  petals 
from  a  pink  rose  which  she  held  in  her  jeweled  fingers.  "It's  so 
silly!  You  college  men  are  all  the  same.  You  don't  know  what 
love  is — it  doesn't  interfere  with  your  sleep  or  digestion !  To  test 
you,  which  will  you  have — me  or  the  next  Harvard  game?" 

"You — every  time,  my  darl " 

"Mr.  Chestleton!" 

She  gave  him  a  glance  of  the  most  righteous  indignation,  and 
hurried  into  the  house.  Harry  dallied  in  the  garden  a  few  minutes, 
hoping  she  would  come  out  again,  but  she  did  not.  He  went  in 
and  found  her  laughing  and  chatting  with  Stevenson  of  Umpty- 
two,  who  spoke  to  him  patronizingly,  while  she  avoided  his  glance. 
She  seemed  just  as  nice  to  Stevenson  as  to'him.  He  went  over  and 
sat  down  near  Daisy  Stevenson,  who  said:  "We  are  going  to  read 
Vergil  every  morning  at  half-past  ten.  Want  to  join  our  class?" 

"Who's  in  it?" 

"Well,  Clara  isn't" — and  she  gave  him  a  pert  glance.  "At 
Charmington,  I  believe,  the  classic  authors  are  not  thought  to  be 
ladylike!" 

If  it  had  not  been  for  Clara  he  would  have  liked  Daisy  Steven 
son  very  well.  He  might  have  made  love  to  her.  He  knew  he 
liked  her  very  much.  She  was  amiable  and  bright.  Men  liked 
her,  not  because  she  was  beautiful — though,  like  every  young  girl, 
she  had  her  moments  of  looking  very  pretty — but  because  she 
was  essentially  charming  and  clever. 


COLLEGE   FLIRTS.  297 

Daisy  Stevenson  was  an  accredited  college  flirt;  indeed  she  ad 
mitted  the  soft  impeachment  without  the  slightest  hesitation. 
"What  else  is  there  to  do  for  us  poor  girls  in  a  college  town?"  she 
asked,  "and  as  for  the  students — hasn't  someone  said  that  to  love  a 
clever  woman  is  an  education  in  itself?  Well,  they  say  (I  don't) 
I'm  clever.  So  you  see  I'm  really  teaching  these  bright  young 
men.  By  rights  I  ought  to  be  one  of  the  faculty,  and  receive  a 
salary!" 

Latterly  she  had  begun  to  study  art  in  the  art  school.  Her 
brother  being  a  prominent  man  in  Umpty-two,  she  naturally  saw 
a  great  many  of  his  senior  classmates.  But  she  confessed  she  liked 
the  sophs  or  even  the  freshmen  best.  "Seniors  are  apt  to  be  pomp 
ous  and  stuffed  full  of  wind,"  she  sighed.  "They  are  too  know 
ing,  without  knowing  anything.  I  despise  most  of  the  conceited 
solcmn-pated  'about  to  be's.'  Here  and  there  there  is  a  nice  jolly 
senior,  not  having  mental  cramps  over  his  'ologies,  but  he's  a  rare 
bird.  Most  of  them  turn  atheists,  to  be  led  tamely  back  to  church 
later  on  by  their  wives.  As  forme,  give  me  the  ridiculous,  boyish 
jolly  soph.  I  love  him  always!" 

Harry  sat  and  talked  and  laughed  with  her  a  long  time;  at  last 
she  cried,  "Mercy!  What  eyes  Clara  Hastings  is  making  at 
me!"  (pretending  to  be  frightened.)  "She  needn't  be  afraid  of 
poor  me!  Tell  Clara  I  shall  never  marry,  ]\lr.  Chestleton.  I  have 
wedded  Art — with  a  big 'A.'  Art  is  wy  master.  I'm  going  to 
Rome  next  year  with  my  brother.  I  expect  to  live  abroad  four  or 
five  years." 

"What?  you  won't  be  at  our  Junior  Prom?" 

"No;  my  college  days  are  over,  I  fear.  There,  Clara  is  eying 
you.  She  wants  you  and  [rising]  they  want  me  to  play."  And 
she  left  the  room. 

"You've  been  flirting!"  said  Clara,  as  Harry  approached 
her. 

"I  admire  Miss  Stevenson  so  much  that  I  don't  think  it  possible 
for  her  to  flirt,"  lie  protested  meekly. 

"Oh,  don't  you!"  And  Clara  fanned  herself  with  a  bewitching, 
knowing  air. 


298  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

The  girl  set  his  heart  on  fire.  He  was  idiot  enough  to  say,  "I 
wish  she  would  paint  your  portrait." 

"Thanks,  I'd  rather  not!  She'd  make  me  out  a  hideous  night 
mare  !  Wild  horses  couldn't  drag  me  to  have  my  portrait  done  by 

her/" 

She  rose  indignantly  and  flung  out  of  the  room,  leaving  Harry 
to  wonder  what  he  had  said  to  make  her  so  angry— and  so  provok- 
ingly  handsome! 

A  week  later  and  Bob  Clark  had  reinstated  Jack  on  the  'Varsity, 
and  he  was  obliged,  in  consequence,  to  go  up  with  the  crew  the 
week  before  Commencement  to  Saratoga  Lake.  The  second  game 
with  Harvard  was  to  be  played  at  Saratoga  the  day  before  the 
race.  Yale  had  one  game  to  play  with  Princeton  on  the  latter's 
home  grounds,  having  beaten  her  in  a  close  match  at  Hamilton 
Park.  The  nine  went  down  to  Princeton  flushed  with  their  vic 
tory  over  Harvard,  prepared  to  show  the  Presbyterians  a  few 
tricks. 

Princeton  had  not  at  this  time  grown  to  the  size  and  importance 
it  has  to-day.  It  was  trying  its  level  best  to  grow,  however,  and 
had  sent  up  crews  to  the  great  intercollegiate  contest  at  Saratoga, 
which  it  had  trained  in  the  muddy  waters  of  a  canal  not  far  from 
the  college  campus.  Princeton  has  always  shown  pluck,  however, 
and  it  was  she  who,  after  Yale,  taught  in  its  perfection  the  present 
game  of  football. 

The  American  college  student  is  pretty  much  the  same  all  round. 
He  is^brainy  and  full  of  high  courage.  He  wants  to  win,  and  win 
he  will;  but  the  practice  and  code  of  sporting  ethics  differ.  At 
Yale  a  player  must  fairly  be  in  college,  a  regular  student,  to  be 
in  her  nines  or  crews.  No  one  has  ever — to  her  glory  be  it  said — 
accused  her  of  importing  a  professional  football-player,  or  oars 
man,  or  ball-player,  for  the  sake  of  a  "win."  When  the  nine 
arrived  at  Princeton  they  found  they  were  to  meet  anew  "battery" 
— the  pitcher,  hitherto  unknown,  by  the  name  of  "Brown,"  of 
"Umpty-three."  When  they  came  to  look  at  "Brown"  he  was  a 
tall,  strapping  Irishman,  with  an  unmistakable  Corkonian  jaw. 


COLLEGE   FLIRTS.  299 

Harding  laughed  in  his  face.  "Iking  me  any  Latin  text-book 
you've  been  over,"  lie  said,  "and  we'll  see  if  'Brown'  ean  tran 
slate  it." 

"Oh,  but  he  has  just  recently  joined  the  class,"  said  the  captain 
of  the  Princeton  team,  Blake,  a  handsome  fellow  and  first-class 
ball-player. 

Sure  enough,  they  produced  a  regular  certificate  that  "Brown" 
was  in  college,  O.  K.,  and  signed  by  a  professor  in  due  form. 

"How  can  he  have  entered  college  since  our  last  game?"  asked 
Harding  indignantly. 

"By  special  permit  of  the  faculty." 

There  was  no  convention  rule  on  the  subject,  and  Yale  had  to 
submit.  Thomas,  the  regular  Princeton  pitcher,  played  in  right 
field.  All  Princeton  was  out  on  the  ball-ground,  certain  of 
victory. 

"By  Jupiter!"  cried  Harry  angrily,  "let's  go  in  and  do  these 
Princeton  fellows  up.  Don't  let's  protest — it  isn't  Yale's  way." 
He  felt  in  good  condition,  and  was  confident  that  all  the  profes 
sional  pitchers  from  New  York  to  Chicago  could  not  prevent  Yale's 
winning  the  day. 

Princeton  village  is  "nothing  much,"  but  the  college  grounds 
are  very  beautiful,  and  Nassau  Hall  never  looked  better  than  that 
sweet  June  day,  when  parties  of  pretty  girls,  escorted  by  students, 
trooped  over  to  the  ball -grounds  to  see  the  pride  of  Yale  taken 
down.  Yellow  and  black  are  capital  colors  for  decorative  pur 
poses,  and  although  a  few  Yalensians  had  come  up  from  Phila 
delphia  and  down  from  New  York,  their  blue  was  literally  "out 
of  sight."  The  game  began  with  Princeton  at  the  bat.  For 
some  reason  they  struck  out  in  one-two-three  order. 

It  made  Jim  Danforth  smile.  Caswell,  who  had  run  down  with 
the  nine,  was  forced,  after  the  first  inning,  to  give  long  odds. 
The  new  pitcher  was  very  swift,  but  he  was  not  at  all  accurate. 
Dan  guyed  him  from  the  first,  so  that  he  lost  his  nerve. 

Murdock  hit  a  three-baser,  and  the  Yale  delegation  began  to 
laugh  and  howl  with  glee. 

"Now,  Pat,  what   do   they   pay   fer   the   like    'ave   yes   fer    the 


300  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

game?"  called  out  Dan.  Even  the  Princeton  crowd — a  finer  lot 
of  young  Americans  never  was  seen — who  wanted  to  see  fair 
play,  joiued  in  the  laugh.  In  the  fourth  inning,  with  Yale  5  and 
Princeton  0,  Captain  Blake  put  in  his  regular  pitcher,  Thomas, 
and  Harry  let  Stickney,  a  freshman,  try  his  hand. 

But  the  Yale  team  were  now  romping  toward  victory,  and  they 
hit  the  ball  hard  all  over  the  field.  The  final  score  was  11  to  3. 

At  the  close  of  the  game  the  Irish  "imported"  pitcher  tried  to 
"lick"  Danforth  for  "insultin'  of  him."  He  struck  at  him  once 
and  cut  his  ear.  Captain  Blake  promptly  interfered.  Danforth 
turned  very  pale  with  anger,  and  his  eyes  had  that  tigerlike  look 
Harry  had  seen  in  them  on  occasions  when  Dan  had  proved  himself 
most  dangerous.  Harry  tried  to  stop  him,  but  Dan  was  too  quick. 
Dan  struck  out  viciously  and  knocked  the  Irishman  clean  off  his 
pins.  For  a  moment  it  looked  like  a  general  scrimmage.  But 
Harding  and  Blake  cried  "Shame!"  and  there  was  no  further 
trouble  except  a  shower  of  stones  as  the  team  boarded  the  train. 
It  was  evident,  however,  that  the  stones  were  thrown  by  townies. 
The  stories  in  the  New  York  papers  of  the  morning  following  were 
promptly  denied  by  a  letter  from  Harding  to  the  Herald,  who 
insisted  that  the  majority  of  Princeton  students  "did  not  approve 
of  employing  the  professional  McSwyny  to  pitch,  or  have  anything 
to  do  with  the  firing  upon  the  Yale  team."  McSwyny  was,  it 
turned  out,  a  rank  professional  from  Philadelphia. 

In  the  Courant  of  the  following  week  Harding  wrote:  "This 
will  always  be  the  difficulty  Yale  and  Harvard  will  have  with  the 
smaller  colleges.  In  order  to  win,  it  will  be  easy  for  them  to  put 
in  batteries  or  oarsmen  who  are  really  professionals.  The  true 
competition  is  and  always  will  be  between  colleges  of  equal 
degree^ and  numbers.  .  .  Anotherthing — large  crowds,  shouting, 
yelling,  and  such  nonsense  do  not  benefit  college  sport,  but  injure  it. 
In  years  to  come  the  authorities  of  all  the  chief  colleges  will  tend 

O 

to  make  laws  which  will  make  these  great  crowds  and  gatherings 
at  games  and  races  impossible,  and  Yale  and  Harvard  will  doubt 
less  have  their  contests  eventually  on  their  own  grounds.  This  is 
what  ought  to  happen." 


COLLEGE  FLIRTS.  30! 

This  letter  made  a  great  sensation  among  the  colleges  where 
"intercollegiate"  competition  was  now  the  proper  thing.  Subse 
quent  years,  however,  are  proving  the  general  truth  of  his  words. 
As  a  rule  Harvard  and  Yale  are  tending  year  by  year  to  a  dual 
competition  in  athletics.  Princeton,  however,  has  proved  such  a 
doughty  antagonist,  and  such  a  plucky  one  at  that,  that  her  fol 
lowers  need  never  fear  that  she  will  be  left  out  of  the  fight  as 
far  as  Yale  is  concerned. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

GRADUATING    EXERCISES    AT    COMMENCEMENT. 

AILING  parties  in  the  soft,  warm  moon 
lit  nights  of  June,  after  the  heat  of  the 
day,  to  the  lighthouse  point,  where  oyster 
roasts  on  the  rocks  kept  them  idling  till 
a  late  hour,  were  now  the  regular  thing 
every  second  or  third  evening.  How  the 
poor  chaperons  begged  and  entreated  to 
go  home !  and  how  the  girls  entreated  to 
stay !  and  how  oftener  wind  and  tide  kept 
the  sailboat  lagging  till  an  early  hour  in  the  morning !  But  what 
care  youth  and  health  for  sleep — while  the  moon  shines  and  the 
banjo  strings  are  not  snapped? 

Now;  at  the  close  of  sophomore  year,  was  beginning  the  period 
of  early,  strange,  "puppy"  love.  Generally  with  the  famous  class 
of  Umpty-four,  many  now  became  closely  attentive  to  the  mails 
who  cared  not  for  mails  before.  Others  found  in  New  Haven  cer 
tain  charming  creatures  who  seemed  not  averse  or  unsusceptible 
to  the  slowly  developing  whiskers  of  this  redoubtable  class.  Very 
few  indeed  who  did  not  find  some  sympathetic  heart  either  in  a 
native-born  beauty,  or  some  friend  or  classmate's  sister  who  had 
perchance  come  on  for  the  "exercises"  of  Commencement,  or  in 
some  sweet  schoolgirl  graduate  of  the  many  boarding  schools. 
Some  there  were,  but  few.  Look  back  now,  dear  alumnus,  and 
recall  the  time,  if  you  can,  after  freshman  year  when  you  were  not 
fancying  yourself  in  love  with  some  pretty  face?  You,  fortunate 
Episcopalian,*  who  gazed  down  from  the  gallery  in  Trinity  (on  the 

*  Episcopalians  were  excused  from  attending  regular  chapel  exercises,  and 
were  permitted  to  sit  (sleep)  in  the  gallery  of  old  Trinity. 


GRADUATING  EXERCISES  AT   COMMENCEMENT.          303 

green)  upon  the  fashionable  beauties  of  the  period — you  had  a 
large  variety  of  loveliness  (whether  you  were  acquainted  or  not) 
upon  whose  pretty  bonnets  and  back  hair  you  could,  with  bowed 
head,  bestow  an  admiring  gaze.  Attendance  at  church  of  a  bright 
June  morning  was  a  worldly  display  for  you.  You  dressed  with 
greatest  care,  and  on  your  way  purchased  a  rose  or  a  bunch  of 
violets  for  your  buttonhole.  And  for  you — oh,  ye  of  Presbyterian 
and  Congregational  descent!  the  opportunity  was  small,  'tis  true, 
but  the  "snab"  in  the  chapel  gallery — the  pretty,  curious,  inter 
ested  girl  who  peered  over  the  railing  and  down  at  you  below — 
you  all  remember  her — and  loved  her!  Such  was  puppy  love! 

But  some  there  were  who  loved  not.  Love  never  entered  the 
mind  of  David  Alum,  for  example.  His  loves  were  books.  His 
classmates  respected  his  acumen  immensely,  for  brains  are  admired 
in  college,  where  they  are  apt  to  be  a  scarcity,  as  much  as  skill  in  the 
ball-field.  His  aunt  sat  up  in  the  gallery  of  the  chapel  and  looked 
clown  at  him — yet  it  is  doubtful  whether  she  inspired  any  sudden 
passion  in  anyone!  A  queer,  unlovely,  up-country,  quaint  old 
maid  she  was — taking  care  of  David  a  great  deal  of  the  time  and 
nursing  him;  for  the  raucous  New  Haven  climate  disagreed  with 
the  delicate  young  man,  who  was  somewhat  inclined  to  consump 
tion.  Nor  did  honest  Thomas  J.  Anderson  permit  himself  to  yield 
to  the  tender  passion.  "Old  Andy"  was  one  of  Umpty-four's  four 
monitors.  He  was  popular  because  he  sometimes  forgot  to  report 
a  man  who  was  just  on  the  "edge"  for  being  absent.  It  was 
honest  Andy's  delight  to  sing  old-fashioned  tunes  out  of  his  hymn- 
book,  every  night  after  coming  back  to  his  dormitory  room  after 
dinner,  in  South  Middle  or  the  first  story  of  North  Middle,  where 
he  lived  until  graduation,  having  given  up  his  "choice"  of  room 
junior  year  for  a  modest  sum.  "Old  Andy"  had  no  mind  for  the 
fair  sex.  He  riveted  his  gaze  on  the  pulpit,  on  the  curriculum — 
and  on  the  faculty.  He  knew  the  College  Laws.  They  were 
engraved  on  his  memory  in  never-fading  tablets.  lie  used  to  quote 
III,  chap.  1,  with  unction:  "The  professors  and  tutors,  severally, 
shall  have  power  to  govern  the  students,  and  to  punish  them  for 
any  offense,  except  in  cases  referred  by  law  to  the  Faculty:  Pro- 


304  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

vided  that  they  may  not,  in  any  case,  proceed  contrary  to  the 
advice  and  direction  of  the  President;"  and  again:  "VI.  Persons 
examined  as  above  and  approved  shall  be  admitted  to  College  on 
signing  the  following  statement:  1 1  hereby  acknowledge  the  obli 
gation  on  my  part  while  1  remain  connected  with  Yale  College — 
of  which  by  this  act  I  become  a  member — to  submit  to  the  authority 
of  the  Corporation  and  the  Faculty.''  '  The  matriculation  oath, 
now  long  since  abolished,  and  of  monitors:  "Monitors  appointed 
by  the  Faculty  shall  designate,  on  bills  provided  for  the  purpose, 
those  who  are  tardy,  or  who  egress,  or  absent  themselves  from 
prayers  or  other  appointed  exercises,  which  bills  they  shall  return, 
as  directed,  to  the  Division  officer  in  charge." 

Those  faithful,  simple-minded  old  monitors  of  Yale!  Doubtless 
they  had  all  their  youth  dried  out  of  them  in  those  long  years  of 
painstaking  subserviency — and  so  often  became  tutors  in  self- 
defense! 

Many  thoughts  used  to  enter  Harry's  mind  as  he  sat  listening 
to  the  long,  dull  sermons  of  a  Sunday — sermons  chiefly  upon  some 
theological,  hair-splitting  point  of  no  general  interest — as  to  who, 
of  all  his  friends,  was  like  him,  "hopelessly  loving  and  helplessly 
left."  Clara  Hastings  attended  service  with  her  aunt  at  Trinity, 
and  he  saw  little  of  her,  except  on  a  sailing  party,  or  a  dance,  or  a 
ride,  now  and  then,  over  to  Saltonstall,  and  a  picnic  and  a  row  on 
the  lake. 

At  times  she  made  his  heart  beat  with  joyous  hope.  Than, 
again,  she  told  him  plainly  that  she  was  never  going  "to  care  par 
ticularly  for  anyone — that  a  girl  always  had  the  wrong  end  of  the 
love  bargain — and  that  she  never  intended  to  marry  anyone."  To 
a  young  lad,  unreasonably  and  idiotically  in  love,  what  can  cold 
reason  do  to  dissuade?  Finally,  whenever  they  were  alone 
together,  she  complained  to  him  that  his  sighs  and  protestations 
were  positively  becoming  unendurable,  and  that,  in  all  decency,  he 
must  not  make  a  public  spectacle  of  himself  and  her! 

So  the  summer  term  ended,  and  Jack  went  up  with  the  'varsity 
to  Saratoga.  Harry  remained  in  New  Haven  over  Commencement, 
as  the  nine  played  Princeton  and  Columbia  during  Commencement 


GRADUATING   EXERCISES  AT   COMMENCEMENT.          305 

week.  His  curiosity  was  aroused  over  the  "exercises"  of  that  most 
"glorious"  week  of  all  the  college  year.  But  he  was  not  in  a  very 
happy  mood.  lie  was  rather  silent,  and  secretly  wretched.  He 
got  some  satisfaction  out  of  striking  out  batsmen — that  was  some 
thing — but  Columbia,  who  is  nothing  if  not  on  the  water,  and, 
Princeton,  who  was  only  capable  that  year  of  a  very  tame,  weak 
sort  of  game,  were  an  easy  mark.  All  over  the  country  Harry's 
name  and  fame  had  spread  abroad;  yet  what  did  he  care?  Clara 
looked  away  from  him!  Love  is  such  an  absurd,  incomprehensible, 
foolish  nightmare!  Clara  certainly  seemed  to  think  so!  Crudelis 
semper  femina  ! 

Commencement  day!  He  observed  Professor  Sharp,  full  of 
vain-glory  and  importance,  arrayed  in  Oxford  cap  and  gown  and 
waving  a  baton,  at  prompt  9  A.  M.  leading  on  the  hosts,  headed  by  a 
brass  band — a  long  line,  with  its  right  resting  on  Chapel  Street  in 
front  of  South,  and  its  left  draggling  along  endlessly  away  over  by 
Durfee.  Imprimis,  the  faculty,  headed  by  pale,  anxious  Presi 
dent  Stout.  This  is  their  great  day  of  days.  The  great  men  of 
brains  marched  two  by  two — sincere,  pure-minded,  scholastic, 
solemn,  reverencing  Yale,  working  with  poor  apparatus  and  on 
small,  inadequate  salaries  for  her  glory  and  renown.  Then  fol 
lowed  the  oldest  alumni,  also  two  by  two,  some  leaning  on  staves, 
some  obscure  clergymen,  some  great  in  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
country — judges,  lawyers,  ministers — who  were  all  to  be  present 
at  the  alumni  dinner  later,  and  there  would  be  wit  and  lemonade 
ad  libitum  in  Alumni  Hall. 

Harry  saw  the  alumni  go  by,  and  finally  the  seniors  in  caps  and 
gowns,*  looking  like  scared  nuns  going  to  a  martyr's  stake. 

A  little  later  he  strolled  with  Coles  down  to  Center  Church  on 

*  Caps  and  gowns  worn  permanently  would,  on  the  whole,  be  a  desirable 
uniform  for  students  here,  as  at  Oxford.  It  would  aid  the  faculty  in  assisting 
decorum,  and  in  discipline  ;  it  would  put  students  more  on  an  equality  as  to 
dress,  and  it  would  save  the  student  some  expense.  At  Yale  the  scholastic 
uniform  is  worn  only  by  seniors  on  class  day  or  Commencement,  and  only  then 
by  special  vote  of  the  class. 


306  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

the  green.  The  day  was  hot,  and  as  he  gazed  in  at  an  open  win 
dow  it  seemed  that  there  were  no  men  present  except  on  the  stage, 
and  that  the  long,  double  file  of  men,  led  by  the  brass  band,  had 
utterly  disppeared.  He  saw  bonnets,  hats,  light  dresses,  fans  in 
numerable.  The  delight  of  the  average  young  female  in  squeezing 
herself  into  these  hot,  dreary,  long  exhibitions  of  oratory  struck 
him  then,  and  for  many  Commencements  afterward,  as  something 
remarkable.  He  observed  Miss  Stevenson  walking  along  the  elm- 
roofed  Temple  Street  with  her  brother.  She  nodded,  and  he  and 
Coles  approached. 

"Did  you  ever  see  such  a  jam?"  she  asked  in  her  rapid,  inter 
ested  way.  "I  could  not  wedge  myself  in — the  church  will  not 
hold  another  fan!  and  the  salutatory  is  over,  and  now  it  is  just  the 
dull  monotony  of  the  'philosophical,'  with  now  and  then  a  'disser 
tation'  sprinkled  in  by  way  of  excitement;  though,  for  the  life  of 
me,  I  can't  see  why  a  'colloquy'  or  a  'dissertation'  differs  a  mite 
from  a  plain  ordinary  oration.  Can  you?" 

Harry  looked  around  at  the  crowd  of  students,  old  alumni  and 
recent,  who  stood  beneath  the  high  white  pillars  of  the  church 
portico,  or  who  loitered  about  beneath  the  trees,  on  the  brick 
walk. 

"It's  all  about  the  same  thing — in  fact  everything  is  the  same!" 
he  said.  "And  the  world  is  hollow.  Everything  is  monotonous. 
Victory  gets  to  be  so.  But  there  is  Harvard  yet  to  beat  once 
more,  at  Saratoga." 

"Did  you  know  we  were  going  to  Mount  Desert — did  you  know 
she  was  going  there?  [in  a  little  whisper].  So  we  shall  see  you  at 
Bar  Harbor?" 

"I  had  better  go  to  Kamschatka  and  hang  myself!"  he  laughed 
dismally. 

'Hang  the  pitcher  on  the  pump!'  song  and  dance" — she 
laughed.  "Well,  if  you  can  persuade  yourself  to  spend  July  and 
August  at  Mount  Desert  you'll  have  an  awfully  good  time,  and  see 
so  many  pretty  girls  that  one  hereafter  will  not  suffice  thee!" 

Daisy  Stevenson  twirled  her  large,  lace-trimmed  sun  umbrella 
while  she  talked.  She  was  in  becoming  white,  and  pink  ribbons. 


GRADUATING  EXERCISES  AT   COMMENCEMENT.          307 

"All  ready  for  my  graduation!"  she  laughed  gayly,  but  her  face 
in  repose  was  sad. 

After  a  little  he  left  her,  and  went  up  the  steps  and  tried  to  get 
into  the  church.  He  did  succeed  in  getting  in  a  little  way  in  the 
crowded  aisle.  The  band  played  an  interlude,  and  a  senior  in  a 
dress  suit,  white  tie,  and  patent  leather  shoes,  looking  pale  as  grim 
Death  at  noonday,  stood  up.  He  was  nervous,  and  began,  after 
bowing  first  to  the  Prex.  and  then  to  the  faculty  and  audience: 

"When  Thackeray  died  in  1863,  Charles  Dickens,  in  memoriam, 
said  of  him '' 

But  he  couldn't  remember  what  the  Dickens  he  said !  A  voice 
prompted  him  from  up  in  the  gallery: 

"Another  good  man  gone  wrong!"  said  the  voice.  At  which  a 
sensation  ran  through  the  church,  and  each  member  of  the  faculty 
craned  their  necks  to  see  who  the  daring  reprobate  could  be. 
Harry  thought  he  knew.  Best,  who  came  near  being  fired  in  fresh 
man  year  for  stealing  caps  from  the  sophs'  recitation  room,  pos 
sessed,  as  he  knew,  the  gift  of  ventriloquism.  He  looked  around 
for  Best,  and  saw  him  seated  near  a  window  under  the  gallery, 
with  a  pretty  girl.  He  sat  up  stiff  and  solemn,  and  Harry  knew 
he  was  up  to  some  deviltry  or  other  by  the  Avay  he  behaved. 

"Go  on,  my  good  fellow!"  called  out  the  voice  again,  from 
another  part  of  the  church.  'Don't  let  us  embarrass  you!  We 
are  mostly  girls  in  the  audience,  and  we  don't  pretend  to  under 
stand " 

A  titter  ran  through  the  church,  and  the  speaker  having  been 
prompted,  went  on  with  his  oration.  He  had  regained  his  nerves 
and  wa.s  hastening  on  to  his  peroration,  when  the  voice,  this  time 
from  over  where  Professor  Shepard  sat,  called  out  distinctly: 

' '  Stopping  there? ' ' 

A  roar  went  through  the  house.  The  poor  student  orator  paused 
when  the  voice,  still  from  the  faculty,  called  out: 

"Proceed!  proceed!  You  may  now  translate  into  Latin — come 
now — don't  be  an  idiot!" 

The  student  bowed  and  was  off,  and  two  constables,  with  tip 
staffs,  looked  fiercely  about,  moved  vigorously  up  and  down  the 


308  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

aisles,  and  tried  to  find  out  who  it  was  who  dared  to  invade  the 
dignity  of  the  occasion.  Harry  remained  for  a  little  time,  but 
Best  kept  quiet.  Harry  remembered  that  the  senior  whom  he  had 
interrupted  was  the  man  who  had  quarreled  with  Best  for  some 
reason  and  who  had  succeeded  in  keeping  the  young  soph  out  of 
Phi  TJ.  Best  had  had  his  revenge.  The  tall  senior  was  so  dis 
comfited  that  for  years  it  is  said  he  never  showed  his  face  again 
in  New  Haven. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 


THE    RACE    AT    SARATOGA. 


E  next  day  the  nine  went  to  Saratoga 

o 

J_  and  put  up  at  the  United  States 
Hotel.  Harry  and  Danfortb,  as  soon  as 
they  had  removed  the  dust  of  travel, 
sauntered  out  to  see  the  town.  The  great 
University  Race,  in  which  thirteen  col 

leges  had  entered,  was  to  take  place,  wind  and  weather  permitting, 
on  Thursday,  the  Harvard  and  Yale  game  on  Wednesday,  and  it 
was  now  Tuesday.  Before  they  went  out  of  the  hotel  Harding 
cautioned  his  men: 

"Strict  training  till  after  the  game,  boys  —  and  especially  no 
spring  water!" 

They  walked  about  the  streets,  followed  by  a  number  of  small 
boys  who  recognized  them. 

"Dere's  Chesllton,  de  great  pitcher  o'  de  Yales!"  shouted  one 
of  the  boys. 

"Dere's  Danferth,  de  back  stop!'1  shouted  another.  "He's  a 
stayer!" 

Already  the  street  gamins  were  familiar  with  the  players  of  both 
crack  college  teams.  It  was  arranged  to  play  the  game  in  the 
morning  so  that  President  Breen  of  Harvard,  and  Wayten  Crebb 
of  Yale,  the  originators  of  intercollegiate  athletics,  could  get  in 
their  games  for  the  afternoon,  at  the  race  course.  The  town  was 
not  yet  crowded  with  students,  but  they  were  beginning  to  drop 
in,  in  squads,  from  all  the  colleges  of  the  country.  Thirteen 
were  to  compete  in  the  race  —  even  obscure  little  Hamilton,  sit 
uated  upon  a  hill,  a  dozen  miles  from  any  water,  and  many  miles 
from  a  lemon,  had  caught  the  aquatic  enthusiasm,  and  had  sent  a 

309 


310 


COLLEGE   DA  YS 


crew,  which,  had  it  received  proper  coaching,  might  have  come 
near  winning  the  day.  Trinity  at  Hartford,  Princeton,  Wes- 
leyan,  Brown,  Cornell,  Columbia — what  college  had  not  availed 
itself  of  the  privilege  of  entering  the  great  race?  Such  a 
universal  gathering  of  the  clans  had  never  been  seen  before  or 
since.  The  newspapers  had  not  columns  but  pages  and  double 
pages  on  the  gi'eat  event.  All  the  country  seemed  to  stand  still 
and  await  for  the  cannon  to  boom  over  the  victory  of  the  first  crew 
to  cross  the  line.  Clark  was  now  the  chief  authority  at  Saratoga 
Lake,  and  it  may  fairly  be  said  that  the  Yale  crew  was  not  matched 
even  by  Harvard.  Grannis  departing  when  he  did,  for  the  West, 
on  his  quest  for  Ella  Gerhart,  did  not  hurt  the  crew,  for  Bob  Clark 
ordered  Jack  Rives  into  the  bow  and  shoved  the  men  down  one 
seat.  On  the  whole  Clark  was  satisfied  that  the  speed  of  the  boat 
was  helped,  for  Grannis,  with  all  his  magnificent  strength,  was  just 
a  little  slow  in  recovering. 

Harry,  with  some  of  the  nine,  hired  a  hack  and  drove  out  to  the 
lake,  to  Yale's  quarters,  that  afternoon.  When  they  arrived  the 
crew  was  out  for  a  spin,  coached  by  Gifford,  who  coxswained 
Umpty-four's  first  freshman  crew  to  victory  at  Saltonstall. 
Gifford  had  caught  Clark's  "ideas"  and  he  was  a  natural  water 
man.  They  had  no  steam  launch  for  coaching  purposes  in  those 
days,  and  they  rowed  around  Gifford,  who  sat  in  a  wherry,  and 
pulled  along  with  them.  It  was  a  fine  crew,  as  fine  as  Yale  ever 
has  had,  and  it  was  entirely  confident  of  victory. 

Can  any  college  man  forget  the  thrill  of  excitement  he  feels  as 
he  sees  his  crew  stripped,  in  the  boat,  and  their  bronzed  backs 
shining  in  the  sun?  One  feels  no  such  sense  of  delight  over  a  race 
horse,  or  a  crack  ball  team,  or  a  great  student  sprinter.  Ah !  the 
boat  race  is  the  thing,  after  all ! 

"HoAV  prettily  clear  old  Jack  handles  his  oar!"  exclaimed  Dan- 
forth.  "Oh,  fellows,  we've  got  that  race  in  our  pocket.  It's 
glorious  to  see  that  boat  move!" 

They  stood  on  the  improvised  float  and  watched  the  crew  as 
Gifford  practiced  them  on  starts.  The  beautiful  lake  was  as 
smooth  as  glass.  On  all  sides,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  to  Snake 


THE  RACE  AT  SARATOGA.  311 

Hill,  where  Cornell  had  her  quarters,  were  crews  of  all  the  colleges 
being  coached  by  their  professional  trainers.  Only  a  keen  and 
knowing  eye  could  pick  out  the  different  crews.  But,  there! 
Over  by  the  shore  came  a  crew  as  different  from  the  rest  as  a  city- 
trained  horse  differs  in  gait  from  its  country  cousin. 

'"Vast!  there!"  they  heard  Bob  sing  out  from  the  stroke, 
"There's  Harvard."  His  keen,  sharp  eyes  had  seen  their  rivals. 
When  Harvard  saw  she  was  noticed  she  stopped  rowing  like  a 
sulky,  pert  schoolgirl  caught  in  a  piece  of  mischief. 

Columbia,  which  has  always  been  very  friendly  with  Yale,  came 
up  nearly  alongside  the  wharf.  No  one  thought  especially  of 
Columbia's  winning  in  contrast  with  the  Yale  and  Harvard  crews. 
Columbia  had  a  poor  sort  of  Harlem  River-waterman  stroke,  which, 
while  it  gave  her  a  fast  sprinting  speed  of  two  miles,  was  thought 
good  for  nothing  in  a  three  mile  race.  She  had  a  handsome  crew, 
however — and  Harry  thought  it  an  unusual  crew.  The  papers  had 
cried  them  up  a  good  deal,  but  the  betting  men  and  the  oarsmen 
who  knew  did  not  class  them  with  Yale.  In  -personal  appearance 
they  were  very  handsome,  dashing,  swell  looking  men  in  the 
Columbia  crew,  and  the  Yale  crew  was  sturdy  and  ugly.  As  a 
rule,  sporting  men  never  favor  beauty,  except  in  horses  and 
women. 

The  best  opinion  two  days  before  the  race  favored  either  of  the 
greater  New  England  universities. 

As  they  stood  watching,  Clark-turned  and  headed  his  craft  down 
the  lake,  and  they  set  out  at  a  slow,  steady  swing  past  the  Ilar- 
varcls,  who  lay  on  their  oars  and  watched  them,  hoping  to  catch 
their  time.  Tattle  Hamilton  pulled  up  rapidly,  and  passed  them 
easily,  gaining  vast  credit  to  itself  from  a  parly  of  ladies  who  were 
seated  over  upon  the  new  grand  stand,  near  Moon's  Hotel.  Further 
down  the  lake  and  out  of  Harvard's  sight,  Clark  put  on  a  little 
steam,  pulled  up  to,  and  passed  Hamilton,  as  if  the  latter  was 
anchored.  Yet  Hamilton  was  pulling  "their  darndest,"  as  they 
said  afterward. 

When  Clark  came  in  he  secretly  gave  out  that  lie  feared  Cornell 
the  most,  Harvard  next,  and  Columbia  third. 


3i2  COLLEGE    DAYS. 

Jack  clasped  Harry's  hand.  "You  have  conquered,  Chestnuts; 
and  with  us  it's  all  a  lottery." 

"We  may  lose  to-morrow's  game,"  said  Harry,  with  a  smile, 
as  if  to  say,  "Rats — I'm  sure  of  it!" 

Then  Jack  whispered  in  his  chum's  ear  the  "time"  on  practice 
of  the  crew,  16.  10.  "We  know  it's  the  best  on  the  lake,"  said 
Jack,  plunging  into  the  water  off  the  float.  As  he  came  up,  and 
his  head  appeared  above  the  water,  he  spluttered  and  sung  out, 
"Keep  it  dark,  old  chap!" 

They  admired  the  muscles  of  the  great  crew  as  they  stripped 
for  their  well-earned  bath:  Bob,  with  his  clear  eyes,  and  his  back 
of  iron,  and  his  tongue  of  brass,  as  Jack  said;  Collins,  a  white 
untannable  giant,  fair  as  a  woman,  strong,  and  in  perfect  wind; 
Jack,  himself,  agile  and  clean  cut.  It  was  an  unusual  crew  even 
for  Yale,  and  they  were  bound  to  win.  The  big  man  of  the  crew, 
Muchison,  had  once  thrown  Clark  over  his  shoulder — a  feat  which, 
in  the  captain's  estimation,  entitled  him  at  once  to  a  seat  in  the 
waist.  He  was  from  the  West,  and  had  in  his  father's  large  iron 
rolling  mills  worked  as  a  common  puddler  for  the  sake  of  the  ex 
perience.  He  pulled  a  good  oar,  and  had  won  the  Southworth  cup 
for  single  sculls,  at  New  Haven. 

In  and  around  the  quarters  everything,  including  Stamp  (who 
reigned  there  supreme,  and  had  killed  one  large  yellow  dog  for 
loafing  too  near,  in  order  to  overhear  what  went  on  at  the  dinner 
table),  betokened  a  suppressed  mysterious  excitement.  Stamp 
wagged  his  stumpy  tail  at  Harry,  and  yet  it  was  evident  that 
he  didn't  admire  men  not  in  the  boating  line.  The  baseball  men 
were  all  very  well  in  the  college  yard,  but  at  Saratoga  they  and 
their  little  game,  it  was  evident,  to  Stamp's  discriminating  mind 
played  second  fiddle. 

At  ease  in  their  blazers  and  sweaters  before  dinner,  the  crew 
talked  of  the  coming  event  and  "Yale's  chances."  It  was  aston 
ishing  how  moderate  very  strong  men  are — how  modest.  Harvard 
had  a  good  crew,  Columbia  really  surprised  them,  Weslej^an  had  a 
strong  crew,  Williams  had  a  crew  which  was  made  up  of  men  who 
would  go  to  make  up  a  good  class  crew  at  Yale.  Trinity  rowed 


THE  RACE   AT  SARATOGA.  313 

for  "glory."  Presently,  the  freshmen  crew  trotted  in.  They 
had  been  out  for  a  four-mile  run — great  lubberly  fellows — Clark 
took  no  stock  in  them.  "Row!"  he  said  sneeringly.  "They  can't 
pull  a  boat  as  fast  as  a  mule  can  trot  backward!"  They  were  a 
good-natured,  jolly  lot  of  freshmen,  and  it  was  hard  to  keep  them 
under  control.  "Oh,"  said  Bob,  with  a  sigh,  "it  isn't  our  fresh 
man  crew  of  Springfield  a  year  ago— you  wouldn't  say  they  came 
from  the  same  college!  Why — even  Princeton  will  beat  them 
hands  down !" 

Presently  dinner  was  called,  and  the  ball  men  stayed  and  ate  with 
them.  Ever}Tone  was  full  of  suppressed  excitement.  The  race ! 
the  race  is  the  thing,  after  all — and  such  a  grand  affair  as  this! 

"The  next  day  was  sultry,  and  both  the  Yale  and  Harvard  teams 
played  the  last  championship  game  rather  listlessly.  Yale  won  by 
a  low  score  of  4  to  2,  and  the  nine  broke  training.  Any  old  oar 
or  old  ball  man  may  recall  the  delight  of  that  first  smoke  or  first 
glass  of  fizz  after  the  toil  is  over;  it  is  worth  all  the  self-denial  to 
enjoy  that  perfect  bliss.  Think  of  what  these  young  men  undergo, 
and  how  much  self-denial  they  exercise,  ye  parents  and  guardians 
who  are  so  afraid  of  your  sons  and  wards  going  into  athletics! 
Many  a  boy  has  been  saved  from  ruin  and  reckless  habits  by  train 
ing;  many  a  weak  character  made  firm  and  strong  and  manly  by 
that  period  of  discipline.  Many  a  lad  has,  in  training,  formed 
habits  of  self-control  which  have  lasted  through  his  life.  And 
we  have  yet  to  learn  of  the  first  student  who  has  been  physically 
injured  thereby.*  The  athletic  men  are  generally  the  leaders  in 
college,  and  their  influence  is  very  great  upon  all  their  classmates. 
They  are  always  a  conservative  element;  never  drinking,  never 
smoking,  keeping  early  hours,  and  preserving  always  a  certain 
dignity  of  carriage.  Training  and  discipline  teach  them  courage, 
perseverance,  self-reliance,  pluck,  hardihood,  and  nearly  all  the 
Christian  virtues.  At  least,  they  teach  all  the  Spartan  virtues. 
Think  of  rowing  in  the  sharp,  icy  spring  winds,  and  then  in  the 

*  At  the  present  day  all  the  college  nines  and  crews  are  under  the  care  of 
competent  physicians,  who  carefully  watch  for  any  injurious  effects  of  training 
or  "  overtraining." 


314  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

broiling  sun,  sometimes  sixteen  or  eighteen  miles  a  day !  For  such 
was  the  stern  discipline  of  those  days — a  discipline  which  trained 
up  a  crew  really  to  row  a  race  of  eight  miles  instead  of  three,  and, 
unless  the  crew  was  naturally  a  very  strong  one,  often  worked  the 
men  stale  before  the  day  of  the  race. 

Crews  are  apt  to  do  too  much  work.  Fast  crews  are  crews  with 
plenty  of  life  and  enthusiasm  and  freshness  for  their  work.  They 
are  not  muscle-bound  with  over-training — ten-mile  runs  and  twenty- 
mile  rows.  Every  now  and  then  a  crew  gets  a  stern,  uncompromis 
ing  captain,  who  works  his  men  to  death.  Bob  Clark  had  learned 
from  his  experience  that  too  much  work  would  kill  the  prospects 
of  the  best  crew  that  ever  sat  in  a  boat. 

Oxford  will  pull  four  miles  and  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
further,  in  19£  minutes,  while  Yale  will  pull  four  measured 
miles  in  20.10.  The  Oxford  crew  has  been  together  perhaps 
not  a  month,  while  the  Yale  crew  has  been  rowing  ten,  twelve 
miles  a  day  all  the  spring.  The  reason  is  the  Oxford  'Varsity 
is  a  crew  of  selected  and  tried  men,  whereas  the  Yale  men — 
some  of  them  may  never  have  previously  sat  in  a  boat.  The 
whole  systems  of  the  two  countries  are  different.  The  better 
opinion  is  in  favor  of  that  of  Oxford.  They  get  very  fast 
"springy"  crews  together  in  what  we  should  consider  no  time  at 
all.  Probably  those  same  Oxford  and  Cambridge  crews  would  row 
in  worse  time  if  they  were  worked  to  death  like  canal  horses  as  we 
energetic  Americans  work  our  crews,  months  before  the  race. 

In  the  days  of  college  life  of  which  we  are  writing  athletics  were 
to  a  certain  extent  "just  beginning."  Geo.  Walker  Breen,  the 
famous  pedestrian  and  all  round  athlete  of  Harvard,  and  Way- 
ten  Crebb  of  Yale  had  gotten  up  during  the  year  an  intercol 
legiate  athletic  association  including  all  the  colleges.  Their  first 
meet  at  Saratoga,  the  afternoon  before  the  great  races,  was  naturally 
overshadowed  by  the  greater  event.  But  they  were  the  first  suc 
cessful  college  games,  which,  afterward,  were  destined,  as  years 
went  on,  to  be  one  of  the  great  annual  college  "events,"  viz. :  the 
baseball  championship,  the  football  championship,  field  games,  and 
the  race. 


THE   A\4  CE   AT  SARATOGA.  315 

In  those  days  field  sports  or  games  were  in  a  very  crude  condi 
tion.  Harry  saw  men  contesting  in  the  walking  match  in  ordinary 
clothes — the  Amherst  man  who  won,  beating  Gco.  Breen,  the  modest 
Harvard  athlete,  by  nearly  a  mile,  having  merely  thrown  aside 
his  hat,  coat  and  vest,  collar  and  suspenders!  The  runners 
sprinted  in  ordinary  canvas  baseball  shoes.  The  great  event  was 
the  tug  of  war,  in  which  Lehigh  proved  superior.  The  100- 
yard  dash  was  made  in  15  seconds.  Other  times  were  in  proportion. 

The  I'ace  course,  on  which  that  first  intercollegiate  meet  was 
held,  was  dusty,  uneven,  and  ill  adapted  to  sprinters.  At  that  time 
there  was,  outside  of  New  York,  hardly  a  single  sprinting  track  in 
the  country.  Jack  and  Harry  often  sigh  when  they  see  the  beau 
tiful  track  of  the  present  Yale  Field,  and  tell  the  young  under- 
grads  what  time  they  made  in  the  old  days!  At  Saratoga  Harry 
"just  for  fun"  entered  in  the  mile  run — and  was  a  good  second  to 
a  Princetonian.  How  different  are  these  days  of  well-trained  and 
disciplined  athletes.  That  meet  at  Saratoga  would  by  them  doubt 
less  be  thought  a  meet  of  duffers!  In  baseball  and  in  boating, 
however,  the  "form"  of  the  contestants  does  not  appear  to  have 
greatly  improved  in  twenty  years.  Probably  no  better  college  four 
ever  sat  in  a  boat  than  that  which  almost  beat  the  crack  London 
Rowing  Club  four  at  Philadelphia  in  1876.  Its  form  was  perfect, 
and  the  London  crew  acknowledged  that  if  Yale  had  known  how  to 
steer  as  well  as  to  row,  they  would  have  won.  As  it  was,  the  Lon 
don  crew  were  so  done  up  that  the  next  day  they  were  beaten  in 
slow  time  by  an  obscure  Albany  crew.  So,  in  baseball,  the  game 
is  no  better  played  now  than  then.  Errorless  games  were  common 
in  those  days.  The  game  was  understood.  In  matters  of  training 
for  the  nine,  of  course,  improvements  have  been  made.  Sliding 
to  bases,  stopping  balls,  throwing  with  a  straight  shoulder  throw, 
catching  the  ball  with  the  hands  in  a  certain  position — these  matters 
are  now  the  A  B  C  of  baseball,  and  were  not  taught  but  acquired 
by  instinct  in  the  days  of  Harry  Chestleton. 

The  great  day  of  the  race  came — and  it  rained,  blew,  and 
stormed.  "The  entire  American  people,"  as  a  New  York  paper 
sarcastically  put  it,  "would  be  obliged  to  undergo  another  weary 


316  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

day  of  suspense,  owing  to  the  insalubrity  of  Saratoga  Lake."  The 
great  hotels  were  crowded  with  noisy  students,  who  rushed  about 
in  gangs  of  thirty  or  forty,  waving  flags  of  all  colors — the  purple 
of  Williams,  red  of  Hamilton,  cornelian  of  Cornell,  or  yellow-and- 
black  of  Princeton.  Then  it  was  the  famous  "Siss — boom — ah," 
the  sky-rocket  war  cry  of  Nassau  Hall,  was  first  heard  in  the  land. 
Harvard  and  Yale  men  met,  bragged,  lorded  it  over  the  small  col 
leges,  swaggered,  and  betted  their  last  cent.  The  thirteen  colleges 
made  that  day  and  night  a  grand  pandemonium,  which  all  the  Con 
gress  water  they  could  pour  down  would  not  allay.  Extras  came 
out  every  hour  with  the  latest  details  of  the  crews.  "What  Bob 
Clark  said,"  "What  Dicky  Strainer  said,"  "What  Ostrom  thought," 
"What  Goodwin  predicted" — the  whole  town  was  in  a  tremendous 
fever  of  excitement.  Springfield  the  year  before  was  nothing  to  it. 
No  New  London  race  has  ever  come  anywhere  near  those  great 
contests  at  Saratoga  for  general  interest  and  crowds  and  excitement. 
The  New  London  race  to-day  is  a  tame  affair  in  comparison. 
Betting  men,  gamblers,  sports,  racing  men,  dropped  their  game 
and  came  and  bet  on  the  college  crews.  It  was  amusing  and 
instructive  to  hear  in  the  barroom  of  Congress  Hall  at  1  A.  M. 
"gamey"  looking  sports  bandying  about  the  names  of  our  various 
seats  of  learning,  as  if  they  were  race  horses!  "Twenty  to  one 
agin  Trinity,"  shouted  a  fierce  looking  dyed-mustached  "gent"  in 
a  check  suit,  and  could  find  no  takers;  "Three  to  one  agin  Yale," 
and  the  "gent"  was  promptly  accommodated.  "Hayverd,  one  to 
five,"  found  plenty  of  takers;  "Karnell,  one  to  six,"  and  so  on. 
As  Dan  and  Harry,  with  their  crowd,  shouted  about,  drank  whisky 
and  "champ,"  with  hosts  of  old  Yale  grads,  who  were  rejoicing 
over  the  baseball  championship  over  Harvard — they  thought  what 
a  jolly  idea  these  great  intercollegiate  contests  were,  but  afterward, 
on  wise  reflection,  all  Yale  men  certainly  agreed  that  they  were 
too  crowded  and  noisy  for  any  real  enjoyment.  Certainly  these 
great  affairs  were  detrimental  to  the  best  interests  of  college  life. 
Drinking  was  much  too  common.  In  later  years  it  dawned  upon 
the  larger  universities  that  they  were  simply  advertising  the  fresh 
water  colleges  by  participating  in  these  cumbrous  affairs.  When 


THE   RACE   AT   SARATOGA.  317 

Yale  and  Harvard  drew  out,  the  "Intercollegiate"  became  a  thing 
of  the  past. 

Not,  dear  alumnus  of  Columbia  or  Cornell  or  Wesley  an,  that  you 
cannot  send  up  crews  worthy  to  compete,  but  you  cannot  be 
depended  on  year  after  year.  Your  conditions  are  not  the  same. 
Is  it  not  better  that  you  have  a  race  among  yourselves? 

There  was  a  dance  at  the  Grand  Union  the  night  before  the  races 
at  Saratoga,  and  Harry  strolled  over  with  Danforth  and  looked  in 
at  the  open  windows.  There  were  plenty  of  pretty  girls  wearing- 
ribbons  and  sashes  of  the  various  college  colors.  Harvard  and  Yale 
did  not  seem  to  be  half  as  popular  as  Columbia,  and  her  blue  and 
white  colors  predominated. 

They  saw  De  Koven  dancing  with  a  pretty,  spirited  girl  near  the 
open  window.  Presently  he  stopped,  and  they  came  out  on  the 
wide  piazza.  She  recognized  Harry's  bronzed,  handsome  face  in 
stantly,  giving  him  her  gloved  hand.  She  was  all  college  enthu 
siasm  and  excitement.  "Oh,  Mr.  Chestleton,"  she  said,  "how 
proud  you  must  be!  And  poor  Harvard  beaten  three  straight 
games!" 

"They  expect  to  win  to-morrow  and  make  up  for  it." 

"Oh,  but  they  icon^t!  Do  you  see  this?  [indicating  some  blue 
and  white  ribbons  tied  above  her  pretty  round  shoulder.]  Colum 
bia  is  going  to  win.  I  had  a  dream  saying  it  wouldn't — and 
dreams  go  by  contraries." 

Harry  laughed  good-naturedly.  "Are  you  Columbia's  mas- 
cotte?"  he  asked. 

"No,  but  I  feel  certain  about  it,"  she  insisted.  "Whenever  I 
have  such  a  distinct  dream  about  anything,  I  feel  sure  Pin  right. 
Now,  I  dreamed  about  Clara  Hastings — 

Harry  glanced  quickly  into  her  face.     "What?" 

"Didn't  you  hear?  She's  engaged  to  a  Mr.  Saxton,  a  great 
swell,  a  Yale  man,  class  of  '08,  who  lives  in  New  York.  It's  a 
fact — she  wrote  me — 

It  seemed  for  a  moment  to  Harry  as  if  everything  swung  about 
him  in  a  circle.  lie  murmured  a  few  commonplaces,  bowed,  and 
seeking  out  Danforth,  walked  hurriedly  toward  their  hotel. 


318  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  man?"  asked  Danforth,  who  was 
engaged  in  smoking  a  huge  cigar. 

"Dan,  don't  ask  me.  I've  heard  bad  news.  I'm  going  home 
to  New  York  to-night — I'm 

"No  one  sick?" 

"Oh,  no.  Don't  ask  me,  Dan.  Will  you  see  Jaek,  if  you  can, 
before  the  race?  Cheer  him  up.  Don't  say  I'm  not  here.  Don't 
let  any  of  the  fellows  know.  O  Dan !  Dan !" 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  reeled  against  a  tree. 
"What  is  it?"  asked  Danforth,  getting  alarmed.  "Let's  go  get 
some  brandy  for  you." 

Harry  suffered  himself  to  be  led  into  the  cafe  of  one  of  the  great 
hotels.  But  he  would  drink  nothing.  He  went  over  into  a  corner 
of  the  barroom,  and  his  head  fell  on  his  arm  on  a  table  near  at  hand. 

"Dan,"  he  said,  "just  go  away  and  leave  me.  I  am  all  right. 
I'm  not  sick.  I've  heard  bad  news — it's  a  girl " 

"Oh!"  said  Danforth,  much  relieved. 

"Just  leave  me,  Dan.  Go  and  have  all  the  fun  you  can  with  the 
fellows.  If  her  dream  comes  true  as  her  other  one,  bet  on 
Columbia." 

Danforth  looked  perplexed.  "Egad,  Harry!  I  believe  you're 
wandering  in  your  mind." 

Harry  pulled  himself  together. 

"Dan,  don't  think  I've  gone  crazy,  but  I've  been  a  fool.  I  set 
my  heart  on  a  girl — and  she's  going  to  many  another,  and  I've 
naturally — I  just  heard  it,  and  I've  made  up  my  mind  that  I  won't 
go  back  to  college  next  year." 

"Not  pitch  another  year?" 

"No;  now,  I'm  just  going  home  to-night  to  get  away.  I  don't 
want  any  brandy;  I  don't  want  anyone  to  stop  me.  If  anyone 
tries  any  funny  business  on  me  he'll  get  hit—that's  all." 

Harry  looked  at  his  watch  calmly.  "The  New  York  train  goes 
at  11.30,"  he  said.  "I've  got  half  an  hour  to  pack  my  bag — I'm 
going.  The  race — I  saw  the  last  one  with  her,  Dan !" 

When  he  saw  that  Harry  was  obdurate,  Jim  Danforth  quietly 
followed  him  upstairs  to  their  room  on  the  fourth  story  and 


THE  RACE  AT  SARATOGA.  319 

went  to  work  and  helped  him  pack,  and  at  the  same  time  packed 
his  own,  traps.  Harry  was  too  full  of  his  grief  to  notice  what  he 
did.  He  walked  to  the  depot  like  a  man  in  a  dream.  He  was  a 
little  surprised,  however,  when  the  train  reached  Albany,  to  have 
Dan  walk  into  the  car  where  he  sat.  They  had  bidden  each  other 
good-by  at  Saratoga. 

"I  kind  of  thought  I'd  run  down  to  New  York  with  you,"  said 
the  good  fellow.  "I  confess  I  don't  care  much  about  seeing  the 
boat-race " 

"O  Dan!  That's  a  flat-footed  whopper.  You  get  out  of  this 
train  and  go  back — 

"No — too  bad  we  can't  get  a  sleeper,  isn't  it?  Lots  of  people 
who  don't  care  a  rap  about  the  in-ter-co-le-giate  races  left  Sara 
toga  to  spend  to-morrow  in  New  York,  they  say,  and  the  berths 
arc  full — political  sort  of  people,  they  say,  who  don't  know  that 
Yale  College  exists!'1 

"Dan,  I  insist  on  your  going  back.  You  know  you  wouldn't 
miss  the  race  for  a  thousand  dollars.  I  shall  never  forgive  myself 
if  you  miss  it.  Go  back,  Dan,  for  my  sake!" 

"I'd  rather  read  about  it  in  the  New  York  papers.  It's  the  only 
way  I  ever  enjoy  a  ball  game — I'm  so — excitable!" 

"Dan — Dan!  don't  be  an  ass!" 

"I'm  in  good  company,"  he  laughed,  and  the  train  rolled  out 
and  away  from  the  depot.  Presently  Dan  forth,  after  cracking  a 
few  dismal  jokes,  made  himself  comfortable  in  a  seat  and  went  to 
sleep.  Harry  sat  up  until  the  gray  dawn  appeared  and  they  rolled 
into  the  Grand  Central  depot.  Would  he  have  done  this  for  Jim 
Danforth? 

There  is  a  period  in  the  lives  of  all  young  merr  when  any  such 
catastrophe  to  their  hopes  seems  very  final.  A  disastrous  love 
affair,  or  a  worrying  gambling  debt,  or  a  serious  family  quarrel 
may  kill  between  the  ages  of  nineteen  and  twenty-two.  The 
young  man  believes  there  is  nothing  beyond! 

At  thirty-five  these  trifles  never  make  him  desperate.  He  begins 
to  see  that  half  the  fun  of  life  is  its  disappointments. 

But  at  nineteen   his  outlook   seems,   as  in   Harry's  case,  to  be 


320  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

finally  closed,  because  of  the  simple  fact  that  he  suddenly  finds  a 
girl  he  has  set  his  heart  upon  does  not  love  him.  All  the  currents 
of  his  young  being  have  set  to  her.  He  would  rather  die  than  not 
possess  her.  Her  touch  is  magnetic.  The  crisp  sound  of  her 
dress  is  music.  When  she  speaks  her  words  enter  his  soul.  Never 
again  is  love  so  engrossing,  so  all-powerful.  It  is  then  keyed 
exactly  to  a  woman's  love;  it  is  as  unselfish  as  hers,  as  pure  and 
sweet  as  hers. 

He  stealthily  took  out  a  Russia  leather  wallet,  and  from  one  of 
the  compartments  removed  three  photographs  of  Clara — one  taken 
on  horseback  after  one  of  their  rides  in  New  Haven ;  one  in  a  street 
dress  and  hat,  taken  at  Charmington,  and  one,  just  her  head  alone 
— the  one  he  liked  best.  He  sat  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  gazing 
at  them,  his  knees  up  against  Dan's  seat  in  the  car.  So,  she  was 
lost  to  him!  going  to  marry  that  graduate  Saxton  of  '68,  with  his 
long  mustache.  Her  beauty,  her  exquisite  hair,  her  lovely  eyes, 
her  high  soul,  which  he  exalted  now  the  higher  and  worshiped 
the  more  devoutly  since  she  was  lost  to  him — how  he  realized  the 
hopelessness  of  it  all  now !  He  felt  sick  and  faint.  He  thought 
he  would  go  to  the  door  and  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air.  Instantly 
Dan  was  on  his  feet  following  him. 

"I  wouldn't  go  out  there,"  said  Dan.  "The  cars  twitch  so 
around  these  curves  you  might  accidentally  get  thrown  into  the 
Hudson  River!" 

Harry  suffered  himself  to  be  led  back  to  the  seat.  "I  feel  half 
sick,"  he  said.  "The  windows  don't  seem  to  be  able  to  let  in  any 
air." 

"Oh,  we'll  go  get  our  breakfast  and  then  go  get  a  Turkish  bath 
in  New  York,"  said  Dan.  "Then  we'll  get  your  mother  and  Kitty, 
and  we'll  run  off  down  to  Long  Branch  and  put  ourselves  in  con 
nection  with  the  telegraph  office.  Now,  I  predict  Yale  first, 
Cornell  second,  Harvard  third,  Columbia  fourth — and  I  saw  Brown 
rowing  in  good  form,  and  so  I'll  put  them  fifth  and  Ann  Arbor 
sixth,  and  Oshkosh  seventh,  and — and — the  University  of  South 
Dakota  eighth,  and — and — Bowdoin " 

But  here  he  fell  asleep  again. 


THE   RACE   AT   SARATOGA.  321 

Harry  must  have  dozed  himself,  for  the  next  thing  he  knew 
they  were  going  through  the  dark  tunnel  toward  Forty-second 
Street. 

His  first  two  years  of  college  life  were  over.  He  was  home 
once  more;  the  wicked  soph  year  was  a  thing  of  the  past. 

He  was  sad  and  disconsolate  over  Clara's  engagement,  and  the 
news  of  Columbia's  win  and  Harvard's  fouling  the  Yale  boat  did 
not  add  to  his  comfort.  The  world  was  all  awry. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

AT    MOUNT    DESEKT. 

BY  degrees  Harry  got  over  the  first  shock  of  the  news  of  Clara 
Hastings'  engagement.  By  the  end  of  August  he  had 
written  her  a  passionate  letter  of  farewell  and  received  a  cold, 
formal  reply.  It  was  all  over.  His  heart  was  crushed.  Girls 
were  no  longer  attractive.  He  wished  there  was  a  first-class  war 
going  on  somewhere  in  the  world  where  he  could  go,  and  lead 
ing  a  charge  against  great  odds,  be  handsomely  killed ! 

His  mother  had  sympathized  with  him,  and  with  the  greatest 
tact,  never  ceased  to  praise  the  beautiful  girl,  of  whom  she  had 
had  but  a  glimpse  that  Easter  Sunday  on  Fiftieth  Street.  Gradu 
ally  his  heart  had  healed  a  little.  It  was  about  this  time  he 
received  a  letter  from  Grannis,  dated  Denver,  Col.,  and  saying  he 
had  found  some  traces  of  Ella,  and  expected  shortly  to  start  for  Cali 
fornia.  The  disappointment  seemed  to  bring  him  and  his  mother 
closer  together  than  ever  before.  He  did  not  want  to  be  long  out 
of  her  sight.  He  refused  half  a  dozen  offers  of  local  New  York 
nines  to  pitch  games  for  them.  He  refused  everything  and  stayed 
quietly  at  home,  smoking  a  long  brierwood  pipe,  heaving  desperate 
sighs,  and  reading  Heine's  poetry,  until  it  came  time  for  him  to 
take  them  up  to  Mount  Desert. 

The  summer  vacation  at  Bar  Harbor,  passed  in  the  then  simplic 
ity  and  jollity  of  Rodick's  Hotel,  was  a  pleasanter  one  than  Harry 
would  naturally  have  anticipated.  Mrs.  Chestleton  wisely  pre 
ferred  the  hotel  to  taking  a  cottage — she  wanted  Harry  to  be  alone, 
in  his  then  unhappy  frame  of  mind,  as  little  as  possible.  Bar 
Harbor  was  not  fashionable,  but  comfortable,  in  those  days. 
Social  requirements  were  relaxed.  Chaperons  were  not  deemed 
necessary.  The  young  people  lived  in  a  beautiful  Arcadia,  in 
which  good  behavior  was  a  matter  of  course. 


AT  MOUNT  DESERT. 


323 


In  those  days,  gentle  reader,  it  was  possible,  probable— nay, 
polite — to  call  for  one's  summer  girl  (hailing,  too,  from  blue- 
blooded  Boston,  smart  Murray  Hill,  or  Walnut  Street — or  the  city 
that  lies  near  Druid  Park),  at  say,  9.  A.  M.,  with  self,  horse,  and 
buckboard,  to  load  upon  said  buckboard  said  girl,  to  drive  around 
the  island  (twenty-four  miles),  dining  at  a  hotel  at  the  opposite 
point,  near  Southwest  Harbor,  and  returning  in  the  moonlight 
along  about  9  or  10  o'clock  p.  M.  !  Iloni  soit  qui  mal  y  pense. 

When  Daisy  Stevenson  came  to  Bar  Harbor  she  readily  fell  into 
its  accepted  customs  with  spirit.  Harry  found  himself  thrown 
with  her  in  sailing  parties,  buckboard  parties,  and  climbing  parties 
a  great  deal.  He  liked  her  because  she  let  him  talk  about  Clara  by 
the  hour  and  never  forbade  him.  Doubtless  it  bored  her,  for  she 
never  esteemed  Clara's  mental  gifts  very  highly,  and  she  only 
cared  for  people  of  brains.  She  and  her  brother  had  a  tine  Indian 
canoe,  which,  after  a  while,  she  taught  Harry  to  paddle  with  her 
among  the  porcupine  islands. 

Yes,  and  what  a  different  girl  she  was,  too,  after  a  few  weeks  of 
sun  and  sea  air  and  exercise!  She  became  positively  pretty!  It 
was  odd  what  comfort  the  lad  took  in  being  with  this  art-prize 
girl! 

With    Clara   it    had    always   been:    "Do   the    correct    thins," 

«.  o ' 

"What  does  society  expect?"     "So  and  so  is  not  good  form,"  etc. 

With  Daisy  it  was  always  some  topic  outside  themselves.  She 
had  read  and  devoured  all  the  novels  that  were  ever  written, 
apparently.  George  Eliot's  "Mill  on  the  Floss"  was  her  favorite. 
She  set  Harry  to  thinking  and  reading.  She  lent  him  "Middle- 
march."  Unconsciously  she  became  a  summer  school  of  philos 
ophy  to  him. 

One  day  Harry  experienced  a  slight  sensation.  It  was  the  last 
week  in  August.  He  had  resolutely  frowned  on  any  girl  and  all 
girls  except  Daisy,  so  far.  His  heart  was  crushed  and  dead,  etc. 
He  preferred  foggy,  rainy  days;  then  he  retired  to  his  little  room 
au  quatrtime,  stretched  himself  on  his  corn-cob  bed,  and  read 
about  sweet  Dorothea  and  Casaubon  and  the  disillusionment  of 
love. 


324  COLLEGE   DA  Fi. 

Those  Jays  of  the  first  disappointments  in  love  how  a  lad 
takes  to  heart!  And  what  a  dear  old  ass  he  makes  of  him 
self! 

One  day  he  came  downstairs,  his  finger  in  a  book  which  he  was 
reading.  He  looked  about  for  Miss  Stevenson,  expecting  her  to 
appear  pleased  at  Ms  coming,  and  willing  to  go  canoeing  in  her 
canoe  with  him,  as  usual. 

But,  lo  and  behold!  she  had  gone  down  to  the  wharf  with 
another  man — and  a  Harvard  man  at  that!  a  man  whom  she  had 
hitherto  shunned  and  avoided  with  a  marked  disdain !  Did  Daisy 
Stevenson  actually  mean  to  take  this  man  canoeing?  Heaven  for- 
fend!  There  were  plenty  of  other  pretty  girls  sitting  about  in 
their  cool,  white  dresses  eying  him  respectfully  (the  distinguished 
Yale  pitcher  was  considered  a  great  swell),  and  eying  him  even 
wistfully.  At  Rodick's,  that  season,  there  were  exactly  four  girls 
to  one  man. 

He  threw  his  book  on  a  table  and  walked  away  gloomily  up  the 
path  leading  toward  Bald  Mountain,  and  threw  himself  under  a 
tree  on  the  grass.  He  could  not  understand  why  Dais}r's  action 
affected  him  so.  Somehow  her  flat  defiance,  as  he  pretended  to 
think  it,  had  driven  Clara's  image  entirely  out  of  his  mind  for  the 
time  being.  Could  it  be  possible  that,  had  he  not  met  Clara,  he 
would  have  fallen  in  love  Avith  Daisy?  She  had  charm.  Her 
artistic  ambition — now  that  she  was  the  prize  pupil  of  the  year 
she  was  deemed  well  advanced  on  her  career — lent  her  an  added 
grace.  He  discovered  that  she  had  the  most  vivacious  and  bright 
est  hazel  eyes,  that  her  light  blond  hair  was  beautiful  in  the  wind, 
that  she  had  a  most  lovely  tanned  complexion  !  As  he  lay  on  the 
grass  looking  off  to  sea  he  saw  a  commotion  on  the  water.  Had  a 
boat  or  canoe  capsized?  Had  the  clumsy  Harvard  man  upset  her? 
He  seized  his  hat  and  ran  down  to  the  wharf.  Miss  Stevenson  and 
the  Harvard  man,  safe  on  dry  land,  passed  him  on  the  way.  She 
was  in  no  danger — she  gave  him  a  bow,  which  seemed  to  mean 
"See — I  am  fond  of  a  little  diversity."  Not  cold,  not  distant, 
but — not  her  usual  smile  and  intimate  glance.  He  returned  to 
Rodick's  more  surprised  than  ever.  He  suddenly  discovered  that 


AT  MOUNT  DESERT.  325 

everything  was  at  an  end  between  them,  if  everything  ever  had  a 
beginning'. 

Could  lie  have  seen  her  that  night  in  her  room,  crying  as  if  her 
heart  would  break ! 

Daisy  Stevenson,  with  her  keen  insight  and  bright  mind,  saw 
too  clearly  that  he  never  would  really  come  to  love  her;  that  it 
was  rather  her  mental  endowment  he  respected,  not  herself  he 
loved.  Gently,  nobly,  and  with  consummate  tact,  the  girl,  in  their 
daily  intercourse,  repressed  her  own  feelings.  She  fought  down 
her  own  wishes,  her  own  love,  in  those  pleasant  August  days. 
How  willingly,  if  she  had  allowed  herself  to  go,  she  would  have 
given  up  all  her  high  hopes  and  ambitions  for  marriage  and  quiet 
life  with  this  kind,  sweet-natured  lad!  It  was  her  crown  of  mar- 
tvrdom,  and  she  concealed  it  from  everyone.  She  even  led  Harry 
to  believe  that  she  did  not  care  for  him  in  the  least — in  that  way. 
She  showed  him,  too,  that  in  his  heart,  deep  down,  there  still  lay 
the  image  of  his  goddess  Clara.  One  day  she  jestingly  said:  "Do 
you  think,  indeed,  that  I,  with  my  pride,  will  ever  consent  to  play 
second  fiddle?" 

"If  you  allude  to  a  certain  Miss  Hastings,  her  image  has  gone 
out  of  my  sight  forever!"  he  said  calmly. 

"Nonsense!  How  j^ou  would  start  up,  flush,  nnd  grow  pale 
again,  as  people  are  said  to  do  in  novels  but  never  do  in  real  life, 
if  Clara  should  suddenly  appear  over  that  ledge  of  rocks!  You 
love  her!" 

And  the  next  day  Daisy  and  her  brother  left  for  a  trip  through 
Canada,  and  he  saw  her  no  more  that  summer. 

After  the  Olivette  carried  Daisy  away — fated  steamboat,  how 
many  lovers  hast  thou  separated  in  thy  day ! — lie  seemed  to  return 
more  to  his  old  cheerful  self.  He  began  to  amuse  himself — to 
even  permit  himself  to  indulge  in  a  mild  flirtation  with  a  pretty 
Philadelphia  girl,  a  Miss  Fleeting.  Miss  Fleeting  Avas  the  belle 
at  Bar  Harbor  that  summer— she  was  a  pretty,  laughing,  jolly 
round-eyed  creature,  and  it  gave  him  a  little  amusement  to  cut  out 
two  Princeton  grads,  who  were  supposed  to  be  of  the  bluest  Phila 
delphia  blood.  There  were  plenty  of  Harvard  men  at  Rodiek's, 


326 


COLLEGE  DAYS. 


and  to  his  surprise  he  found  most  of  them  amazingly  good  fellows  in 
spite  of  the  foul  at  Saratoga.  They  got  up  a  nine,  and  he  pitched 
for  them.  He  delighted  in  the  success  his  pretty  sister  Kitty  had 
become.  She  took  very  well  among  the  young  fellows  at  Mount 


"  IF   YOU   ALLUDE   TO   A   CERTAIN   MISS   HASTINGS,  HER   IMAGE   HAS   GONE 
OUT   OP  MY   SIGHT  FOREVER,"  HE   SAID   CALMLY. 

Desert.  She  was  always  ready  for  any  sort  of  a  long  walk,  a  hard 
row,  or  a  climb  up  Newport  or  Green  Mountain.  By  the  time 
vacation  was  over  Harry  was  in  a  comparatively  cheerful  frame 
of  mind.  He  had  become  reconciled  to  Clara's  engagement.  He 
determined  the  rest  of  his  college  course  to  work  hard,  study,  and 


AT  MOUNT   DESERT.  327 

give  up  girls  forever.  "Jack,  old  man,"  he  said,  a  day  or  two  after 
they  were  established  in  their  pleasant  rooms  for  junior  year  in 
ivy-clad  Durfee,  "Jack,  women  only  bring  sorrow  and  disappoint 
ment — take  all  I  have  known." 

"Oh,  the  devil  they  do!"  laughed  Jack,  who  was  engaged  in 
putting  on  a  sweater  and  preparing  to  go  out  to  the  football  field, 
"Women  are  God's  best,  last  gift  to  man!  you  just  bet  your  life!" 

"I'm  going  to  leave  them  all  severely  alone  after  this — they've 
brought  it  on  themselves!"  and  Harry  laughed. 

"That's  right,  of  course;  and,  old  fellow,  I  understand  of  course 
what  a  time  you've  had  all  summer.  Oh,  I've  been  there  myself! 
Often!  But  I  find  that  every  new  girl  I  meet  has  some  new 
additional  charm.  I  love  not  one.  but  many!  I  have  serious 
intentions  of  becoming  a  Mormon  when  I  graduate — and  marrying, 
say  a  dozen  dear  girls  I  have  met,  and  loved!" 

"O  Jack — what  an  incorrigible  flirt  you  are!"  And  he  laughed. 
"You're  as  bad  as  Solomon  !" 

"Xo  worse  than  you — you  old  girl-crusher!  you  always  pretend 
to  be  so  serious,  but  you  gel-  there  all  the  same!  Foxy  !" 

They  were  juniors  now,  and  scuffling  was  beneath  their  dignity, 
otherwise  Harry  was  minded  to  give  his  chum  a  lesson  in  respect 
fulness.  Jack  swung  out  of  the  room  whistling  a  popular  tune  and 
hied  him  over  to  the  "gym"  lot,  where  the  football  team  was  to 
meet  for  the  first  time  that  season.  Football  had  at  the  time 
hardly  the  importance  it  now  has,  but  science  had  already  begun  to 
be  displayed  on  the  game,  especially  at  Princeton.  Yale  had 
beaten  Harvard  the  year  before,  and  this  year  the  plan  was  to  train 
an  eleven  "from  the  word  go"  and  beat  both  Harvard  and  Prince 
ton.  Yale  had  some  great  players,  notably  Godolphin,  a"scientif," 
and  Dobson,  center  rush.  Gushing,  too,  had  shown  great  ability 
the  year  previous.  They  called  him  facetiously  "Old  Cushion,  the 
Man  Mountain."  Little  Bailey,  the  quarter-back,  could  writhe 
and  twist  himself  through  a  knothole.  Jack  found  quite  a  crowd 
gathered  at  the  gym,  and  presently  was  mustered  in  on  the  'Var 
sity  side.  He  was  bold  and  strong,  and  a  week  later  was  asked  by 
the  Yale  captain  to  join  the  regular  training  table.  He  wrote 


328  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

home  to  his  father  at  Yonkers  about  it,  and  received  a  reply 
positively  forbidding  him  to  go  on  the  eleven.  He  continued  all 
through  October  to  play  with  the  team,  however,  taking  care  not 
to  give  out  his  true  name  to  the  reporters.  Football  was  Jack's 
natural  game.  He  was  quick,  active,  strong,  alert,  and  plucky, 
and  presently  it  was  found  that  the  Yale  team  could  not  get  along 
without  him.  Again  Jack,  the  rascal,  planned  to  deceive  the  "old 
boy"  as  he  did  in  his  rustication. 

As  for  Harry,  he  began  to  take  long  walks  to  East  and  West 
Rocks,  and  to  the  famous  old  "brewery"  with  Nevers,  who  was 
busy  over  his  Lit,  essay,  and  to  "sport  the  oak"  and  to  do  no  end  of 
general  reading.  He  got  Tutor  Dil worthy  to  write  him  out  a  long 
and  varied  scheme  for  English  history.  In  his  secret  heart  he  had 
some  vague  and  indefinite  plan  of  going  in  for  a  Townsend  and 
taking  the  DeForest  medal  in  the  coming  senior  year.  He  thought 
he'd  begin  early  and  read  up!  How  Clara's  eyes  would  open  when 
she  beheld  the  college  pitcher,  not  content  with  athletic  honors, 
sweep  in  the  greatest  literary  prize  in  college!  In  everything  he 
did  he  could  not  help  having  the  fiancee  of  one  hated  Saxton  of  '68, 
ever  before  his  eyes.  Ah,  me!  dear  elderly  alumnus,  we  have  all 
been  there,  "many  a  time";  we  have  all  worked  for  the  one  girl — 
and  perhaps  lost  her,  but  she  was  still  the  girl  of  girls  to  us.  Harry 
sported  the  oak  theatrically;  made  no  calls  on  his  New  Haven  girl 
friends — he  did  this  with  theatrical  intent.  He  wished  to  pose. 
Clara,  who  was  in  town  for  the  winter,  flirted,  rode  horseback,  and 
went  about  in  society  that  fall,  apparently  indifferent  not  only  to 
Harry  but  to  Saxton  of  '68  as  well.  Jack  was  devoted  to  her. 
The  handsome  fellow  was  so  "profoundly  insincere,"  as  she  said, 
that  she  almost  loved  him.  She  drove  out  to  all  his  football 
matches,  where  he  usually  played  under  an  assumed  name,  and 
applauded  his  dashing  plays  until  her  gants  de  suede  were  burst, 
and  she  made  him  buy  her  others. 

So  with  Harry  at  work  and  Jack  at  play,  the  Thanksgiving 
game  with  Harvard  at  New  York  approached — but  that,  as  Mr. 
Kipling  observes,  is  "another  story." 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 


THE    FIRST    THANKSGIVING    FOOTBALL    GAME. 

ALE  men  for  many  years  have 
been  well  acquainted  with  the 
famous  country  place  of  Gen 
eral  Mahlon  Rives.  The  tall 
white  sandstone  towers  make 
their  appearance  above  a  little 
forest  of  maples  and  beeches 
against  the  dark  background 
of  the  Yonkers  hills. 

On  the  morning  of  Thanks 
giving  Day,  the  steady  wheel 
horses    of     a     canary-paneled 
coach     sprang    into    a    lively 
canter    as     they     rounded     a 
curve   and   dashed    into   the  porte 
coc/iere.        A     fair     young     girl, 
dressed     in     russet     brown,     and 
muffled     to     the     chin  in    a    long 
boa,  came  out  of  the  doorway  and 
greeted  the  ladies  who  made  up  the 
coaching  party  with  a  pretty  stateliness. 

"Papa  declares  he  won't  go,"  she  exclaimed  dubiously.  "Tie 
says  that,  having  forbidden  Jack  to  play,  he  does  not  think  he 
ought  to  countenance  the  game  by  going  to  see  it.  Did  you 
ever!" 

Immediately  a  tall  old  gentleman,  with  rather  a  stiff,  military  air, 
followed  the  girl  out  upon  the  porch.  General  Rives  had  served 
in  the  war  of  the  Southern  rebellion  with  considerable  distinc- 


33° 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


tion.  He  wore  no  medals,  but  his  empty  sleeve  told  a  story  not 
without  a  certain  eloquence.  He  advanced  to  the  coach  and  gave 
his  right  hand  to  a  short,  red-faced,  red-bearded  young  man  who 
was  driving,  another  Yale  man. 

"General,  we  can't  let  you  off,  you  know ;  you  promised  us— 

"Circumstances "  began  the  general,  clearing  his  throat. 

"But  you  are  an  old  Yale  man  yourself,"  interrupted  a  bright 
black-eyed  little  lady,  who  sat  muffled  in  her  sealskins  next  the 
driver. 

"Circumstances "  again  began  the  general. 

"You  were  in  college  once,  and  now  Jack  is,  and  not  to  see  this 
important  match — the  match  of  the  year — why " 

The  little  lady  waved  a  flag  of  blue  bunting  inscribed  with  the 
letter  Y,  and  gave  a  little  cry  of  animated  despair. 

"Oh,  do  come,  General  Rives!  What  are  we  to  do  for  beaux?" 
pleaded  a  pretty  young  woman,  who  seemed  to  have  swathed  her 
self  for  the  day  in  bands  of  blue  satin  ribbon.  She  wore  a  stylish 
Rembrandt  hat,  and  beneath  the  low  brim  her  e37es  glanced  out  at 
the  gallant  old  soldier  with  an  amusing  coquettishness. 

"Why,  general,  the  coach  is  literally  stuffed  with  good  things," 
urged  the  gentleman  who  was  driving. 

"Papa — I — I — if  you  don't  go,  I  won't!"  exclaimed  his 
daughter. 

"I  really  don't  believe  in  this  sort  of  thing,  Mrs.  Telford.  I — I 
do  not  wish  to  countenance  it — for  Jack's  sake,  you  know,"  said 
the  general.  "In  my  day  at  Yale  they  did  not  have  these  tre 
mendous  athletic  affairs.  I  confess  the}r  seem  to  me — cr — er — 
very  bad  for  the  students — very  harmful  to  their  studies." 

The  black-eyed  little  lady  addressed  as  Mrs.  Telford  gave  a  slight 
cough. 

"But  we  shall  be  so  disappointed,"  she  exclaimed.  "If  you 
don't  go " 

"You  see,  I  have  forbidden  Jack  to  play,"  said  the  general 
quietly.  "His  mother — Mrs.  Rives  has  always  been  an  anxious 
mother — and  Jack,  with  his  boat  crew,  had  a  tendency  to  overexert 
himself,  and  when  it  came  to  football— we  have  heard  such  stories 


THE   FIRST    THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAME. 


331 


\ 


that  we  forbade  him.     We  are  very  anxious  to  see  Jack  graduate, 

if  not  with  honors,  at  least  with  the 
usual  number  of  arms  and  legs." 

"There  are  occasions,  general, 
when  it  is  an  honor  to  lose  an  arm, 
don't  you  think?"  It  was  the 
pretty  girl  in  the  stylish  hat  who 
made  this  graceful  speech.  The 
general  merely  smiled  and  bowed 
in  reply,  and  hesitated.  "Of 
course,"  he  said  at  length,  "I  be 
lieve  that  my  dear  old  alma  mater 
is  worth  fighting  for" — a  fine  light 
spread  over  his  grizzled  old  face. 
"If  there  must  be  fighting  and  Jack 
was  in  the  fight — I — I — shouldn't 
want  him  to — I  shouldn't  care  to 
see  him  show  the  white  feather. 
Yes — I  would  rather  see  him" — 

then  he  turned  away   quickly  and  nervously.     "Come,  Bessie," 

he  said,  "don't  keep  Mr.  Telford  waiting." 

Bessie  petulantly  leaned  against  the  wall.     "I  know  it's  horrid 

of  me,"  she  said  apologetically  to  the  ladies  in  the  coach,  "but 

papa  is  behaving  so  badly.     I— I  shall  not  go,  I  shall  stay  and 

miss  it."     There  were  girlish  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"Bessie!"  said  the  general  sternly.     Then  he  appeared  to  relent 

a  little.     He  could  be  severe  enough  with  Jack,  but  he  was  more 

lenient  toward  his  daughter. 

"Papa  is  just "  she  cried,  stamping  her  foot,  and  then,  filled 

with    keen  disappointment,  yet  amusingly  willful,  fled  into  the 

house  to  hide  her  tears. 

"Come,  general,"  said  Mr.  Telford,  "it  will  be  a  fine  drive.     It 

will  be  a  grand  game,  and  for  the  championship,  too!     Although 

I'm  not  a  college  man  /"shall  shout  for  Yale,  and  when  you  get 

there  you  will  shout,  too,  I'm  sure." 

"Nonsense,"  laughed  the  general,  "my  days  of  enthusiasm  are 


GENERAL    RIVES. 


332  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

over.  Now  don't  let  us  keep  you.  The  horses  are  restless. 
Very  sorry  that  my  wife  feels  too  ill  this  morning  to  come  down. 
I  don't  mind  confiding  to  you  that  AVC  received  a  very  unwelcome 
letter  from  the  faculty  last  night,  about — about  Jack.  It  seems — 
and  I  know  how  grieved  all  you  neighbors  will  be  to  hear  it — that 
he  is  in  the  first  stage  of  discipline,  and  so  won't  be  home  this 
Thanksgiving."  Lucky  the  general  never  found  out  about  Jack's 
rustication  the  year  before! 

The  general's  words  filled  most  of  the  party  with  a  wholesome 
awe.  Only  the  girl  in  the  stylish  hat  and  bands  of  blue  burst  out 
into  the  jolliest  of  laughter. 

"Oh,  how  funny!"  she  laughed.  "You  know,  General  Rives, 
that  I  spent  last  Commencement  in  New  Haven — and — I — I  feel 
sure  that  everyone  that  I  met  who  was  at  all  nice  was  in  some 
stage  of  discipline  or  being  suspended  or  something." 

"In  my  day,"  said  the  general  gravely,  "the  'nice'  fellows  were 
those  who  were  mos't  careful  to  conform  to  college  rules." 

Again  the  pretty  young  girl  burst  out  laughing,  as  if  this  were 
a  very  odd,  old-fashioned  way  of  looking  at  the  question.  Mr. 
Telford  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Good-by,  and  a  pleasant  day  to  you!"  said  the  general,  bow 
ing.  Telford  gave  the  signal,  the  coach  rolled  away,  and  the  horn 
sounded  as  it  disappeared  down  the  avenue  of  leafless  maples. 
The  general  watched  it  for  a  moment  and  then  entered  the  house. 

He  was  obliged  to  encounter  there  a  very  pale,  very  distraite 
young  woman,  who  stood  with  her  wraps  thrown  back  upon  her 
shoulders,  her  hat  hanging  by  its  ribbon  from  her  hand.  She  was 
tall,  like  her  father,  and  possessed  something  of  the  general's 
erectness.  As  he  entered  she  confronted  him :  "Does  it  seem  like 
Thanksgiving  Day?"  she  asked. 

The  general  took  her  two  soft  little  hands  in  his  one  hand  very 
gravely. 

"I  had  no  heart  to  go,  Bessie — Jack  not  at  home.  You  see  it  is 
probable  the  faculty  have  seen  fit  to  compel  him  to  remain  at  New 
Haven  over  the  Thanksgiving  holiday  as  a  punishment.  It's  his 
own  fault,  he  has  brought  it  on  himself.  He  has  probably  been 


THE  FIRST    THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAME.  333 

very  wild  and  disobedient,  but  when  a  boy  devotes  himself  as  he 
has  been  doing  to  athletics  instead  of  his  studies,  what  must  he 
expect?" 

"We  must  expect  that  his  father  will  cease  to  care  anything 
about  him,  of  course!"  said  Bessie  defiantly.  "We  must  expect 
that  we  must  only  mention  his  name  with  bated  breath — that  we 
must  go  about  as  if  we  were  ashamed  of  him — although  everyone 
says  there  never  was  such  a  bow  oar  on  the  Yale  crew." 

"But,  my  child,  you  don't  appreciate;  it  is  the  gradual  deteriora 
tion  of  his  moral  character.  This  devotion  to  sport  leads  to  smok 
ing,  drinking,  gambling " 

"Papa!  don't  you  know  they  go  into  training  and  can't  do  these 
things?" 

"I  don't  know — I  don't  pretend  to  know  about  all  that  they  do. 
It  has  all  come  up  since  my  da}r.  In  '40  we  had  no  nines,  no 
elevens,  no  crews — nothing  of  the  sort;  we  had  our  books,  our 
oratorical  contests,  our  literary  prizes.  To  be  an  editor  of  the 
Yale  Lit.  was  our  highest  reward,  and  /attained  that  honor.  I — 
I  hoped  that  my  son  would  follow  in  my  footsteps." 

The  general  turned  into  his  library,  and  Bessie  sorrowfully  went 
to  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Rives  was  a  delicate,  refined-looking  woman  with  a  pale, 
sleepless  look  about  her  eyes.  As  her  daughter  entered  the  hand 
somely  furnished  chamber  she  looked  from  the  couch  where  she 
was  lying.  "I'm  sorry,  dear,  about  the  football  game.  I'm  sorry 
you  did  not  go  without  him;  but  your  father  feels  Jack's  disgrace 
very  keenly.  It  would  have  been  torture  for  him  to  try  to  be  gay 
and  jolly  all  day  long,  but  you  might  have  gone  in  spite  of  Jack's 
disgrace." 

"Jack's  disgrace?" 

Bessie  leaned  down  and  kissed  her  mother  on  her  forehead 
gently.  "I  just  hate  the  faculty!"  she  murmured. 

"You  are  a  stanch  little  sister  to  Jack!"  smiled  her  mother. 
"Yet  I  don't  know  why  I  say  'little,'  for  you  are  as  tall  as  I 
am." 

Then  they  heard  the  door  bell  ring,  and  in  a  few  moments  more 


334 


COLLEGE   DA  VS. 


the  general  entered  with  a  telegram.  His  face  had  grown  younger 
by  ten  years. 

"A  telegram  from  Jack!"  he  cried.  "  'Be  home  to  dinner  to 
night;  will  bring  a  gang— JACK.'  He'll  bring  a  'gang'?  " 

"A  lot  of  his  friends — how  jolly!"  cried  Bessie,  clapping  her 
hands.  "It  must  be  the  'Gimly  gang' !" 

"Jack  will  be  here?"  said  Mrs.  Rives,  sitting  up.  "They  will 
let  him  come  home?  Ring  the  bell  for  my  maid,  Bessie,  quick. 
If  he  brings  his  friends  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  We  must  have 
his  room  and  the  spare  rooms  aired.  There  are — we  had  better 
prepare  for  at  least  nine — or  eleven  is  it?  Oh,  eleven  at  once! 
What  shall  we  do?" 

The  good  woman  rose  briskly  from  the  couch  and  was  all  happy 
activity  in  a  moment.  The  whole  household  assumed  an  air  of  life 
and  gayety.  Bessie  ran  out  to  the  kennel  and  told  bounding 
Pompey  and  fawning  Carlo,  "Jack  is  coming!  Jack  is  coming!" 
She  danced  across  the  lawn  as  blithely  and  as  gracefully  as  a 
Spanish  danseuse;  for  Bessie  was  very  much  of  an  outdoor  girl, 
and  could  ride  and  walk  and  run  like  a  young  boy.  As  she  flew 
through  the  light  brown  maple  leaves  she  found  herself  suddenly 
caught  and  held  fast. 

"Oh,  papa!  how  happy  I  am!" 

The  old  general  winked  mysteriously.  Then  he  cleared  his 
throat.  "Er — er,  your  mother — er — is  upsetting  the  entire  house," 
he  said.  "There  is  so  much  noise  going  on  I  can't  work.  It  is 
very  embarrassing!" 

"Poor  papa!" 

"Er— the  1.52  train — er — confound  the  boy !  of  course  he'll  be 
there  to  see  the  game.  I — I " 

"You  dear  old  thing!     You  icill  take  me  after  all?" 

"Er — well — we  will  see— after  lunch!"  he  said,  laughing,  like  a 
boy,  to  himself.  She  threw  herself  into  his  arms. 

No  gathering  of  any  kind  is  so  gay  with  color  and  display,  so 
rich  in  lovely  faces  of  pretty  girls,  so  brave  with  fine-looking  well- 
dressed  men,  so  noisy,  so  good-natured,  so  fashionable,  as  the  great 


THE  FIRST   THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAME. 


335 


Thanksgiving       foot- 
an  annual   event,  this 
in      New     York,    be- 
The     following     year 
vard,   won    the    right 
The  grand  stand   was 
on    either    side     were 
and     dotted 
there,    a  bit 
coaches  bril- 
ble     people; 
mothers, 
cousins  —  all 
to  enjoy  the 
partisans   as 
The  rival- 
universities 
it  is  earnest, 
rivalry     has 
opportunity, 
fitted         for 
bats        only 
preparation, 
less        work 
ing,  by  self- 
and  exacting.     Trifle rs 
to    try  for   those   three 
binations      of      skilled 
the  crew,  the  nine,  and 
"It    is    character    first 
strength       afterward," 
mous   old    Yale    coach, 
tcdly    taught    his    crew 
rival   university!      No- 
this  deep-centered   dis- 

MUFFLED 

trust   a   greater  oppor- 


ball  game,  which  began  as 
year,  at  the  old  Polo  Grounds 
tween  Yale  and  Harvard. 
Princeton,  by  beating  Har- 
to  play  Yale  on  Thanksgiving, 
festooned  with  buntin<>-; 

C)  * 

dark  masses  of  men, 
among  them,  here  and 
of  a  girl  in  color; 
liant  with  fashiona- 
students  with  horns; 
fathers,  uncles,  aunts, 
not  merely  assembled 
spectacle,  but  earnest 
well. 

ry  between  our 
is  as  amusing  as 
In  athletics  this 
its  grand 
Teams  are 
these  coin- 
after  years  of 
through  end- 
and  coach- 
denial,  rigid 
are  not asked 
great  corn- 
strength — 
the  eleven, 
and  brute 
said  a  fa- 
who  admit- 
to  hate  their 
where  has 
like  and  dis- 

T<>    TIIH         "^ 

CIIIN  IN  A  BIU  BOA.    tiuuty     than 


336  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

the  football  field.  Here  is  actual  physical  contact;  here  are  blows 
and  knocks,  and  falls  and  "tackles,"  and  brawny  men  press 
ing  the  life  out  of  each  other  till  the  cry  comes— "Down, 
down!" 

The  Yale  team  were  gathered  in  their  dressing  room  beneath  the 
grand  stand  some  time  before  the  hour  appointed  for  the  game, 
and  yet  the  noisy,  stamping  feet  of  thousands  of  enthusiastic 
collegians  could  be  heard  through  the  well-lined  ceiling  above 
them.  Hardly  a  man  was  there  on  the  team  who  did  not  appear 
nervous,  except  the  captain,  who  was  busy  talking  to  a  reporter. 
There  was- old  man  Gushing,  or  "Cushion,"  as  they  nicknamed 
him,  tall,  broad,  steady,  perfectly  cool,  perfectly  reliable,  entirely 
brave;  his  hand  trembled  as  he  opened  his  valise  and  as  he  heard 
the  noise  beginning  above.  He  had  been  through  a  dozen  con 
flicts;  he  had  not  known  defeat;  he  never  expected  to  be  beaten. 
Yet  he  experienced  just  then  that  dread  common  to  all  men,  that 
secret  preliminary  spasm  of  weakness  which  often  seizes  great 
public  speakers.  He  knew  very  well  that  on  him,  the  "center 
rush,"  would  come  most  of  the  tremendous  strain.  If  he  wavered, 
if  he  weakened  or  misjudged,  every  newspaper  in  every  large  city 
in  the  country  would  in  its  report  of  the  great  game  hold  him  up 
to  everlasting  scorn.  There  was  little  young  Bailey,  who  stopped 
at  nothing — pale,  yes,  and  worried.  It  is  no  child's  play  ahead  of 
this  young  quarter-back.  Bailey  is  not  the  only  pale  face.  Foot 
ball  men  are  never  ruddy,  their  paleness  is  the  pallor  of  health,  for 
these  men  are  all  trained  to  the  very  pink  of  condition.  Bailey  is 
worried  and  silent.  He  is  susceptible  to  the  various  rumors  he  has 
heard  and  which  always  float  about  before  a  great  game.  He  has 
overheard  that  two  of  the  opposing  team,  whom  he  has  fought 
and  wriggled  through  and  dodged  in  old  games,  have  announced 
they  will  give  him  "particular  attention."  There  is  Dobson 
stripped,  and  the  trainer  is  rubbing  the  knots  of  muscle  on  his 
back  with  rock  salt  and  water.  He  strained  his  side  in  practice 
the  other  day,  and  that  worries  him.  He  bends  over  a  chair,  and 
the  trainer  puffs  and  blows  with  the  rough  rubbing  and  slapping 
he  is  giving  his  bare  back.  Everyone  is  rather  silent. 


THE   FIRST    THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAME.  337 

Harry,  by  right  of  his  being  on  the  nine,  and  an  athlete,  is 
present  and  rubbing  Jack's  back  with  a  coarse  hand  towel. 

"Who  is  this  Mr.  Lansing?"  asked  the  reporter,  who  hap 
pened  to  be  an  old  college  man  himself.  "He  must  be  a  fresh 
man?" 

"Jack,  speak  for  yourself,"  called  out  the  captain  to  a  curly- 
haired,  wiry  fellow,  who  was  to  play  half  back  that  day. 

"Why,  it's  Jack  Rives!"  exclaimed  the  reporter. 

"Yes  but  don't  give  it  away,"  said  the  captain— "a  family 
matter.  His  father  refused  to  let  Jack  play — went  right  back  on 
his  own  college,  too!  But  Jack  won't  have  it,  so  he  is  playing 
under  the  name  of  Lansing." 

"Lansing's  father  doesn't  object,  I  suppose?"  laughed  the 
reporter. 

The  little  joke  livened  up  the  team  and  the  substitutes  wonder 
fully.  Everyone  fell  to  chatting.  Gushing,  to  try  his  back,  play 
fully  lifted  Jack,  who  weighed  about  150  pounds,  and  threw  him 
over  his  head.  He  landed  lightly  on  his  feet. 

"He  was  a  substitute  at  first,"  whispered  the  captain,  watch 
ing  him  proudly,  "and  he's  the  best  dodger  we've  got  now.  I 
intend  to  work  him.  I  intend  to  give  him  a  chance  to  make  his 
reputation." 

Then  the  captain  began  to  ask  the  reporter  questions  about 
Harvard's  team,  but  as  he  had  had  his  own  private  and  confidential 
scout  following  the  Harvard  team  about  for  two  months  and  mak 
ing  careful  notes  of  all  their  games,  the  reporter  could  tell  him 
nothing  that  was  new.  As  the  reporter  departed  the  captain  turned 
and  lectured  the  whole  team  and  substitutes:  "We  are  going  in  to 
break  the  hearts  of  those  heavy-weight  bruisers  in  the  first  half. 
We're  going  to  make  'em  work  and  'wind'  'em.  Tackle  low 
and  throw  hard.  Work  will  come  easier  later.  They've 
got  the  weight  in  their  rush  line;  you're  going  to  see  a  good 
deal  of  end  work  to-day  right  at  the  start,  and  don't  forget  the 
signals." 

So  spoke  the  captain,  a  man  famous  in  Yale  football  annals 
from  that  day  to  this. 


338 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


A  deafening  volley  of  cheers,  tremendous  pounding  of  feet,  a 
roar  of  the  vast  multitude  announced  to  them  the  entrance  of  their 
rivals  on  the  field  for  their  preliminary  practice. 

"They're  out!"  cried  the  captain  sturdily,  "and  that's  bad  luck 
for  them  at  the  start." 

The  team  well  knew  the  captain's  methods  of  coquetting  with 
the  jealous  Dame  Fortune,  and  that  it  never  was  his  policy  to  enter 
the  field  first.  As  the  men  got  into  their  canvas  jackets,  and 
began  to  present,  with  their  padded  knees  and  mud-stained 
"britches,"  that  terribly  "hard,"  bruised-like  appearance,  the 
characteristic  sign  of  a  champion  team — several  friends  entered. 

"Every  girl  in  New  York  is  on  the  ground!"  said  one. 

"My  sister?  Is  Bessie  here — and  the  old  gentleman?"  asked 
Jack. 

His  informant  was  not  able  to  say. 

"Ready,  men!"  called  out  the  captain,  who  finished  blowing  up 
a  pigskin  football,  and  had  his  hand  on  the  door.  "Youngest  first 
— here,  Jack!" 

Another  sop  to  Dame  Fortune ! 

A  moment  more  and  a  second  tremendous  din  of  "RaL!  rah! 
rah!"  rent  the  air.  All  was  noise  and  confusion. 

Old  college  men  stood  upon  their  seats  and  cheered.  The  blue 
seemed  to  be  everywhere.  The  entire  eleven  and  the  seven  substi 
tutes  went  to  work  kicking,  punting,  and  warming  up  in  the  cool, 
clear  air.  Experts  studied  their  score  cards  and  wondered  who 
that  new  fellow  "Lansing"  was.  It  was  Jack  Rives'  first  game 
before  a  great  metropolitan  audience.  He  was  an  "unknown." 
There  was  something  about  his  handsome  curly  bare  head  that 
made  him  a  favorite  at  once. 

Suddenly  Jack's  hawk's  eyes  rested  upon  a  coach  drawn  near  the 
line,  the  canary  body  of  which  was  draped  in  blue.  He  wasn't  so 
very  near  it,  but  he  got  the  ball  and  made  a  run  nearly  the  whole 
length  of  the  ground  in  the  opposite  direction.  The  captain  was 
after  him,  but  Jack  kept  away. 

"Here!  don't  run  your  legs  out;  stop  when  I  say  it!"  called 
the  captain  severely. 


THE   FIRST    THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAME.  339 

Jack  stopped.  ''Do  you  know  who  is  on  that  coach?"  he  asked, 
not  at  all  out  of  breath.  "The  old  man,  with  Bessie!" 

"Rub  some  mud  on  your  cheeks  and  come  along,"  said  the 
captain  crossly. 

Jack  pretended  to  fall  on  the  ball  again.  While  down  he 
managed  to  daub  himself  with  more  very  neatly.  He  came  up 
looking  like  a  wild  Indian. 

In  five  minutes  more  the  great  game  began — "the  finest  game 
ever  played,"  as  said  the  reporters. 

The  Harvard  team  was  a  magnificent  one.  Their  rush  line  was 
tremendous.  In  the  first  five  minutes  "it  all  looked  one  way,"  as 
an  old  Harvard  player  said.  Then  his  friend  sitting  near  by 
observed : 

"I  don't  know.     The  Yale  men  are  so  deuced  tricky." 

"But  look  at  the  ball  on  Yale's  twenty-five-yard  line!" 

"Well,  look  at  it  now!"  said  the  friend. 

A  kick  from  Gushing  had  sent  the  oblong  sphere  whirling  two- 
thirds  the  way  toward  Harvard's  goal.  There  appeared  to  be  as 
many  Yale  men  under  it  when  it  fell  as  Harvard.  The  grand  work 
of  Harvard's  rush  line  had  gone  for  naught. 

Then,  little  by  little,  they  went  to  work  again.  Superior  weight 
told.  They  were  crowding  the  lighter  men  from  Yale  off  the  field. 
Again  they  reached  the  twenty-five-yard  limit.  As  if  by  magic 
the  ball  again  was  kicked  down  the  field. 

"I  tell  you  they  are  trpfng  to  tire  our  rushers  out!"  insisted  the 
Harvard  expert.  "It's  as  plain  as  dirt!" 

It  did  seem  rather  plain,  it  must  be  confessed.  Then,  in  the  last 
part  of  the  half,  Yale  began  to  take  the  offensive. 

Gradually,  l)y  tricks,  by  feints,  by  massing  his  men  at  the  wrong 
place  and  sending  Jack  Rives  in  the  right  place  "for  all  he  was 
worth,"  the  skillful  Yale  captain  got  the  ball  where  he  wanted  it, 
in  front  of  Harvard's  goal,  and  just  inside  the  twenty-five-yard 
line. 

Now  came  an  exciting  moment.  The  entire  twenty-two  men 
were  nerved  up  to  the  highest  tension  as  it  was  plainly  evident 
that  Godolphin,  Yale's  famous  full  back,  had  come  up  to  kick  a 


340  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

goal  from  the  field.  Godolpbin  appeared  indifferent  to  what  was 
going  on,  or  what  was  expected  of  him.  Months  of  training, 
long  sleeps  and  autumn  winds  had  braced  his  nerves  to  per 
fection. 

He  knew  that  he  was  to  get  the  ball,  instantly  to  drop-kick  it,  and 
immediately  be  hurled  down  by  that  terrible  weight  of  Harvard's 
rushers  and  trampled— perhaps  to  be  severely  injured.  Yet  Godol- 
phin  sauntered  up  to  just  the  right  spot— just  the  right  blade  of 
grass,  and  waited.  Yale  had  the  ball  and  the  captain  was  fiddling 
with  it  between  Dobson's  great  legs. 

Not  a  sound  could  be  heard  in  all  that  vast  auditorium  of  twenty 
thousand  excited  people.  The  Harvard  men,  in  a  great  mass  of 
red  at  one  end  of  the  ground  near  their  own  goal,  looked  on  with 
a  sickening  sense  of  despair.  It  was  like  watching  the  deathbed 
of  a  friend.  They  had  seen  Godolphin  do  this  same  thing  before. 
They  knew  that  he  had  calculated  with  the  cool  precision  of  a 
mathematical  savant  the  distance  between  himself  and  that  terrible 
rush  line  which  Yale  admittedly  could  not  hold.  The  little  frac 
tion  of  a  second  when  the  ball  would  arrive  in  his  hands  ahead  of 
those  maddened  bulls  was  the  time  when  the  ball  was  to  soar  up 
above  their  heads  and  sail  gracefully  between  the  goal  posts.  The 
captain  looked  back,  fiddled  some  more.  "Steady,  Lansing!"  he 
called  in  a  low  voice  to  Jack,  and  Jack  knew  the  trick.  He  went 
back  a  couple  of  yards. 

Godolphin  knew  it  also,  and  because  he  saw  the  change  of  tactics 
and  knew  the  ball  was  not  coming  to  him,  he  pretended  to  grow 
nervous,  and  rubbed  his  hands  together  anxiously  to  attract  the 
Harvards'  attention. 

The  captain  still  fiddled  with  the  ball  between  Dobson's  great 
legs.  Then  a  flash — it  was  snapped  back  to  Jack.  A  roar  of  the 
crowd  followed.  The  crafty  captain  had  fooled  them  well.  Jack 
ran  like  a  hare  down  along  the  right  line,  dodging  a  big  brute  of 
a  man,  tumbling  over  another,  diving  between  the  legs  of  a  third, 
his  face  blanched,  his  teeth  set,  his  eyes  on  fire,  the  whole  pack 
after  him.  Courage?  The  boy  would  have  charged  up  a  hill 
under  the  raking  fire  of  a  hundred  Gatling  guns  if  he  saw  a  goal 


THE   FIRST    THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAME.  341 

in  sight  by  so  doing.  He  would  have  given  his  life  then  with  just 
as  glad  good  will. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  great  sprinter  finish  near  the  tape  of  a  one- 
hundred-yards  clash?  If  he  is  pressed  his  face  is  bloodless,  his 
eyes  have  a  most  spiritual,  unearthly  look.  The  soul  pervades, 
rides  high  over  the  earthly  framework.  It  is  do  or  die. 

So  Jack,  clinching  the  ball  under  his  arm,  as  in  a  vice,  dodged 
and  ran,  was  tackled,  and  at  last  was  downed  by  a  crushing  weight 

•/  o  o 

full  on  the  Harvard  base  line.     It  meant  a  touch  down. 

Mighty  cheers  went  up.  Mighty  clappings  and  stampings  and 
horn  blowings  for  the  pretty  piece  of  strategy.  Everything  blue 
waved  in  the  air. 

Then,  when  the  great  pile  of  canvas,  backs  and  legs  and  arms, 
rose  and  separated,  one  lay  still  on  the  ground.  His  head  lay 
across  the  base  line,  the  ball  still  held  tightly  in  his  grasp.  His 
face  had  the  pallor  of  death.  Time  was  called.  Two  doctors  ran 
out  of  the  crowd. 

"It  has  probably  killed  him,"  sighed  a  gentleman  of  science, 
who  had  calculated  the  weight  which  fell  on  him. 

His  remark  made  a  sensation.  Ladies  stood  up  in  their  seats  to 
try  and  get  a  better  view  of  the  fallen  hero.  One  young  woman 
fainted,  and  had  to  be  carried  out.  The  captain  was  kneeling  at 
Jack's  head. 

"Oh!  he's  taking  his  last  words!"  said  someone,  and  the  vast 
crowd  became  still. 

This  is  what  the  captain  was  saying:  "You  slung  old  Tobits 
like  a  lily!  [Tobits  was  one  of  Harvard's  "heavies.'']  Jack,  you 
young  lirnb  of  Satan,  get  up,  bow  to  the  crowd,  and  stop  your 
gallery  play!" 

Jack:  "Wait  till  I  get  more  wind;  besides— how  about  cooling 
down  here,  cap?" 

"The  goal  is  sure  enough,  and  I  pity  you,  you  duck,  after  this." 

Then  slowly  Jack  got  up.  Cheers  and  horns  gave  him  a  tremen 
dous  applause.  He  had  made  a  "star"  play,  and  (iodolphin  kicked 
the  goal  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  felt  wearied  and  bored— he 
was  simply  playing  second  fiddle. 


342 


COLLEGE  DAYS. 


In  the  five  minutes  left  of  the  "half"  the  Yale  captain  played 
purely  on  the  defensive  and  gave  Jack  nothing  to  do. 

On  the  Telford  coach,  which  was  drawn  up  not  far  from  the 
Harvard  goal,  a  rather  amusing  little  comedy  had  been  enacted. 

Mr.  Telford  had  espied  Bessie  and  her  father  before  the  game, 
and  had  sent  and  had  them  come  to  sit  on  the  coach.  He  was 
amused  to  see  that  the  old  general  had  been  conquered. 

The   old  gentleman  at  first,   while  on  the  train,  had  tried  to 


read  his  morn- 
fortunately  the 
people  wearing 
vard  and  \vav- 
laughter,  flags 
embroidered  the 

At  the  station 
selling  and  call- 
vard  red  an' 
here  yar'  now ! 

"I  didn't  mean 
bon,"  said  the 
er — Bessie,  get 
blue  satin,  and 
Yale  flags.  I'll 
hat,  too." 

"I've  got  all 


JACK   LANSING. 


ing  paper.  Tin- 
car  was  full  of 
the  red  of  Har- 
«-'-  ing,  amid  jolly 
on  which  were 
letter  "H." 
some  fakirs  were 
ing  out  "Har- 
Yale  blue  — 
Flags!  Flags!" 
to  wear  any  rib- 
general,  "but — 
a  yard  of  that 
I'll  buy  two 
put  a  bit  in  my 

my  blue  ribbon 
CI  knew  we'd  want  it 


in  my  pocket,"   said  Bessie,   laughing, 
when  we  got  there!" 

At  the  grounds  the  general  would  insist  on  buying  a  third  and 
a  larger  flag,  "in  case  we  meet  Jack— he'll  want  one,"  he  said. 
"Of  course  he'll  be  on  hand."  On  the  coach  the  general  began  to 
show  his  interest  in  the  game  by  asking  a  young  Yale  man,  who 
was  seated  next  the  pretty  girl  in  a  Rembrandt  hat,  a  number  of 
questions.  It  was  his  first  game,  and  it  was  all  Greek  to  him. 
When  the  play  began  he  thought  that  there  was  no  ball  to  be  used 
at  all,  as  fora  long  time  he  could  not  see  it.  After  a  little  he- 
began  to  grow  interested.  As  the  game  went  on  he  began  to  cheer 


THE  FIRST    THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAME.  343 

a  little.  "Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!"  he  cried,  standing  up,  as, 
after  the  ball  had  reached  Yale's  twenty-five-yard  line,  it  came 
flying  over  the  field  from  the  famous  Godolphin,  Yale's  full  back. 
Everyone  on  the  coach  laughed.  "You  must  say  rah,  rail,  rah! 
papa,"  said  Bessie.  "Hurrah  is  played  out;  it's  too  old-fashioned." 
Then  the  general  tried  to  cheer  in  the  modern  fashion,  but  he 
got  in  ten  "rahs"  and  made  them  all  laugh  aiyain. 

CD  O  O 

Again  the  ball  went  ramming  down  foot  by  foot  under  the  crush 
of  Harvard's  heavy-weights  to  Yale's  goal,  and  again  came  flying 
back. 

"When  Yale  got  the  ball  so  near  their  own  goal,"  he  asked  of 
his  pretty  daughter,  whose  face  was  now  pale  and  her  eves  strained 
with  excitement,  "why  on  earth  didn't  they  toss  it  over?" 

"Oh,  papa!  That  is  just  what  they  are  trying  to  prevent  the 
Ilarvards  doing!" 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  the  old  boy,  and  again  they  laughed  at  his 
ignorance. 

Then  the  two  elevens  surged  and  struggled  near  them.  Lansing 
got  the  ball,  but  was  quickly  downed  not  ten  yards  from  their 
coach. 

Suddenly  the  general  stood  up. 

'•'•Jack — itfs  Jack!  You  rascal — confound  you,  my  boy — lick 
them  out  of  their  boots!" 

Then  there  was  excitement.     Lansing — was  Jack! 

Nearer,  nearer  the  Harvard  goal  line  they  crowded  and  surged. 
Then  came  the  wait  for  the  expected  kick  from  the  field — and, 
instead,  Jack's  famous  run. 

While  the  boy  lay  there  panting  on  the  ground  his  father  was 
down  from  the  coach,  walking  to  and  fro  behind  it.  Bessie  was 
trying  to  follow  him.  "Papa,"  she  cried,  "he  isn't  killed,  he  isn't 
killed!" 

"Killed!"  muttered  the  general,  looking  very  old  and  wretched. 
"The  brutes!  to  fall  on  my  boy  that  way,  and  to  interfere  with 
him  that  way!  My  boy  is  half  their  weight,  I  say- 
When  they  told  him  Jack  was  all  right  and  playing  again,  he 
said,  with  a  gasp,  "What  is  that  boy  made  of— rubber?" 


344 


COLLEGE  DAYS. 


And  then,  as  the  time  was  called,  he  started  on  a  run  across  the 
field  to  the  training  quarters  to  find  Jack.  When  he  found  him  he 
gave  him  the  severest  lecture  the  boy  had  ever  received.  Then 
he  broke  down  and  cried  like  a  child.  "Jack,"  he  said,  "win  this 
game  and— I— I'll — there's  nothing  I  won't  do!  I'm  going  off. 
It's  too  much.  I  can't  stand  it!  I'm  going  home.  We  expect 
you,  and  bring  'em  all  along.  Only  don't  come  unless  you  win! 
It's  a  new  thing  to  me  to  have  io  fight  for  my  alma  mater!" 

The  flashing  eyes  of  father  and  son  answered  each  other;  there 
was  a  quick  handshake,  and  the  old  gentleman  left  amid  respect 
ful  silence. 

The  second  half  was  played  very  hard  and  stubbornly.  Both 
teams  were  now  at  their  best.  The  perfect  skill  shown,  the  run 
ning,  the  tackling,  the  punting,  never  before  had  been  equaled. 
Godolphin  had  more  to  do  this  half — he  kicked  a  goal  from  the 
field.  Then  Harvard's  big  men,  angered  and  raging,  drove  the 
ball  down  the  field  and  made  a  touchdown  against  Yale  and  so 
secured  a  goal.  The  score  was  now  11  to  6.  The  last  half — three- 
quarters  of  an  hour — waned.  Yale's  captain  saw,  with  the  intui 
tion  of  genius,  that  it  was  the  Harvard  plan  to  send  Dale,  their 
great  half  back,  through  the  Yale  line  as  a  last  resource.  He  spoke 
to  Jack.  "Watch  Dale  for  a  break,"  he  said.  The  words  were 
hardly  out  of  his  mouth  when  out  of  the  Harvard  "V"  Dale  sprang 
away  with  the  ball  like  a  deer.  Jack,  at  the  captain's  words,  had 
run  back  fifteen  yards  to  stop  Dale. 

It  was  well  he  did  so.  The  tall  man,  with  a  great  burst  of 
speed,  was  coming  with  a  puzzling  zigzag  run, .a  trick  they  had 
learned  from  a  Canadian  lacrosse  expert.  Jack  and  Godolphin 
started  for  him  and  Jack  lit  on  Dale's  back.  Dale  fell  and  Jack 
got  the  ball  and  was  away  with  a  long  run,  and  then  the  Yale 
captain  played  for  time,  going  as  slow  as  he  could  and  advancing 
his  five  yards  only  on  the  third  attempt.  The  Yale  team  had  no 
appearance  of  being  tired  as  had  Harvard's  heavy  rushers,  and 
Dobson  advised  rushing  the  ball  down  the  field.  The  careful  Yale 
captain,  however,  knew  his  game,  and  "played  for  no  errors." 
He  had  no  more  call  for  "star"  plays.  The  ball,  after  a  dozen  red- 


THE  FIRST    THANKSGIVING  FOOTBALL    GAMR.  345 

hot  "scrimmages,"  slowly  made  its  way  toward  Harvard's  goal, 
and  Jack  was  at  last  sent  to  run  around  their  ends.  He  made  a 
gallant  run,  but  was  cleverly  stopped  by  Bostwick,  who  seemed  to 
have  a  special  grudge  against  him.  As  there  were  but  seven 
minutes  left  of  the  half  it  was  decided  to  try  for  a  touchdown. 
The  center  rush,  "Old  Cushion,"  instead  of  passing  the  ball  back, 
pushed  forward  and  carried  a  Harvard  man  on  his  back  for  fifteen 
yards.  It  was  a  magnificent  .effort  and  might  have  been  crowned 
with  success  had  time  allowed.  As  it  was  the  game  ended  11-6, 
with  the  ball  three  feet  from  Harvard's  goal  line. 

Then  came  the  shouts  and  noise  and  carrying  the  great  victorious 
eleven  off  to  their  quarters.  The  Harvard  captain  shook  hands 
with  the  Yale  captain.  Each  eleven  cheered  the  other.  It  had 
been  one  of  the  greatest  games  ever  seen  in  America,  and  the 
defeated  team  had  been  beaten  only  by  the  most  carefully  con 
cealed  strategic  play. 

Jack  brought  his  captain  home — in  ordinary  life  the  Yale  captain 
was  a  very  mild,  meek-looking  individual,  who  had  the  greatest 
dread  of  being  left  alone  with  a  pretty  girl — and  five  other 
worthies,  whose  personal  appearance  had  the  effect  of  making  one 
suspect  they  had  recently  been  through  a  very  severe  sort  of  a 
cyclone. 

"  Can  we  eat  a  Thankgiving  dinner?"  they  all  shouted  in 
glorious  unison.  Then  Jack  danced  a  clog  and  sang  some  doggerel 
verses  of  De  Koven's  about  "Poor  Harvard's  Way." 

They  joked  each  other,  they  laughed  at  Jack's  father  and  at 
Jack's  playing  'possum.  Jack  was  the  hero  of  the  eleven.  What 
could  they  have  done  without  Jack  was  the  question  of  the  hour. 

When  they  got  home  they  found  that  the  general  had  literally 
hung  the  whole  house  in  Yale  blue  bunting.  There  were  blue 
lamps  at  the  door,  blue  Bengal  lights  under  the  trees,  and  when 
Jack  came  home  a  cannon  boomed  out  a  salute  from  behind  the 
stables.  There  was  a  grand  dinner  and  a  ball,  for  the  general  had 
hastily  sent  out  messengers  to  all  his  friends  and  neighbors  far  and 
near.  Harry  and  Kitty  came  up  from  New  York.  The  Thanks 
giving  vacation  had  been  a  jolly  one  for  the  former  that  fall. 


346  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

The  general  hugged  Jack  and  forgave  him,  and  after  that 
game  the  boy  had  it  all  his  own  way  with  the  "old  boy"  and, 
as  well,  his  sister  Bessie.  It  was  a  year  after  this  that  the  cap 
tain — the  famous  captain — whose  name  was  Stafford,  modestly 
proposed  for  her  hand.  "Take  him,  Bessie!"  said  the  old  gen 
eral,  "take  him  and  be  glad;  the  man  who  could  manage  his 
team  as  he  did  will  be  perfectly  capable  of  managing  a  wife!" 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

HARRY    BECOMES    A    "DIG." 

THE  choice  of  rooms  for  junior  year  took  the 
lads  over  to  a  sunny,  cheerful,  ivy-cov 
ered  corner  of  Durfee. 

Harry  settled  down  to  the  quiet  and 
repose  of  winter  term,  and  for  a  time  ath 
letics  ceased  to  interest.  He  kept  up  his 
outside  reading  which  he  began  during 
the  summer,  and  Jack,  on  the  highest 

'  '  O 

wave  of  popularity  in  college  and  society  in  town,  went  in  for 
having  a  good  time.  Occasionally  Harry  would  grudgingly  drop 
his  books — Jack  called  him  now  a  "dignified  dig" — and  don  his 
dress  suit  for  a  dance,  but  he  had  no  heart  in  it  and  looked  for 
ward  to  the  Promenade  as  a  bore.  Jack  was  chairman  of  the  floor 
committee,  and  Harry,  too,  was  first  on  the  committee  and  then  re 
signed.  Miss  Hastings,  who  was  in  New  Haven  for  the  year, 
went  out  a  great  deal,  arid  she  and  Jack  (in  spite  of  her  engage 
ment)  were  great  cronies;  the  handsome  fellow  was  so  profoundly 
insincere  that  every  girl  knew  that  he  only  made  \o\cpour  s'amuser, 
and  allowed  him  many  privileges.  He  was  constantly  receiving 
scented  little  notes.  He  went  into  private  theatricals  a  great  deal; 
he  was  the  delight  of  Phi  U  audiences  that  year.  He  was  band- 
some,  easy-mannered,  jolly,  all  things  to  all  men — a  popular  hero — 
and  he  loved  to  tease  Harry  over  the  regular  letters  he  received  on 
thin  foreign  letter-paper,  postmarked  "Roma."  He  wrote  quaint 
little  poems  and  vers  de  societe  for  the  Record.  lie  ran  down  to 
New  York  for  the  Arion  and  the  French  balls,  as  did  a  round  dozen 
of  Umpty-four  men.  It  annoyed  Harry  to  see  the  number  of 
photographs  Jack  had  of  actresses  signed  "Ever  thine — Adele," 

347 


348  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

or  "Forever  yours — Florine."  This  theatrical  nonsense — Lester 
Wallack  had  actually  invited  him  to  see  a  play  from  the  wings 
the  Christmas  vacation  when  Jack  was  in  New  York — angered 
Harry,  and  he  lectured  Jack  well  for  it.  He  thought  it  was 
all  CaswelPs  influence.  Caswell  was  spending  a  tremendous 
amount  of  money  now  that  he  had  passed  the  Charybdis  of  soph, 
annuals  and  felt  assured  of  completing  his  college  course.  He 
lost  two  thousand  dollars  on  the  Saratoga  race,  which  he  won  back 
at  Thanksgiving,  in  New  York.  He  kept  a  stylish  pair  of  horses 
and  drove  pretty  New  Haven  girls  out  tandem.  Caswell  and  Jack 
were  now  always  together.  Clark  told  him  it  "didn't  do  his 
rowing  any  good,"  and  Jack  replied  that  "Rowing  was  played 
out."  Clark  himself  had  his  tremendous  ambition  yet  to  satisfy, 
and  he  looked  forward  to  a  long  season  of  training  again  without 
any  qualms.  His  enmity  to  unfair  Harvard  and  his  wrath — equal 
to  that  Mrfvitoi  Achilles  of  which  old  Homer  sang  so  grammatically 
and  poetically  in  the  first  line  of  the  Iliad — at  their  crew  for  not 
daring  to  go  ashore  and  be  walloped,  was  still  touching  to  behold ! 

Harry's  room  in  Durfee,  looking  out  on  the  new  quadrangle, 
with  a  vista  of  the  campus  and  the  library  building  in  the  distance, 
was  very  charming,  but  it  did  not  quite  seem  like  being  in  college; 
it  was  so  quiet,  so  elegant,  and  so  cloisterlike !  Everyone  in  their 
entry  seemed  to  be  studious.  A  professor  roomed  just  above 
them.  Nevers,  who  now  roomed  alone  again  two  flights  above 
them  (for  Grannis  was  still  away,  and  Harry  did  not  know 
whether  he  had  found  Ella  or  not),  was  busily  putting  the  finishing 
touches  on  his  essay  for  the  Lit.  prize  which  he  succeeded  in 
capturing.  Even  Coles  was  working  pretty  hard,  and  De  Koven 
had  taken  to  immuring  himself  in  his  elegantly  furnished  Farnam 
rooms  and  composing  songs  on  his  piano  and  verses  for  rejection 
by  the  magazines. 

Somehow  a  great  seriousness  had  suddenly  come  over  the  class 
of  Umpty-four.  Dear  reader,  these  fellows  were  now  no  longer 
boys — they  had  become  upper-class  men.  Life  at  college  was  now 
a  serious  business.  No  more  rushes  and  street  fights,  if  you 
please ! 


HARRY  BECOMES  A    "DIG."  349 

They  now,  too,  came  under  the  influence  of  a  professor  who  had 
the  ability  to  inspire  them  with  a  desire  to  understand  his  subject 
—political  economy.  It  was  a  pleasant  surprise  to  be  actually 
taught  something  in  the  class  room.  Hitherto  it  had  been,  appar 
ently,  an  inspection,  an  examination  with  questions  of  a  prying 
nature  directed  to  points  in  the  lesson,  calculated  to  make  them 
flunk  and  catch  them  unawares — minute  rules  as  to  the  second 
aorist,  a  dozen  questions  upon  the  accent  of  the  article.  It  was  a 
Yale  professor  who,  after  a  lifetime  of  laborious  toil,  brought  forth 
a  work  upon  the  "Greek  Noun,"  but  afterward  sighed  wearily  and 
exclaimed  "Oh,  that  I  had  not  been  so  foolish  and  given  mj'self 
such  wide  range — oh,  that  I  had  simply  confined  myself  to  the 
ablative  !"  In  spite  of  the  class  room,  and  with  the  encouragement 
of  Professor  Growler,  Harry's  intellectual  life  had  really  begun 
now  at  Yale. 

He  planned  out  his  day  methodically  so  that  he  could  have  his 
evenings  to  himself  for  work.  lie  sent  regrets  to  everything  that 
went  on  in  society  until  invitations  dropped  off.  He  did  not  wish 
to  meet  Clara  if  he  could  prevent  it,  and  there  was  no  other  girl  he 
fancied  especially,  in  all  the  charming  New  Haven  "set."  He 
counted  on  his  weekly  letter  from  Rome.  This  sufficed  him.  They 
were  not  love  letters — far  from  it.  Daisy  Stevenson  affected  to 
despise  love  as  much  as  she  did  religion  or  any  other  "emotion" 
which  disturbed  the  perfect  use  of  one's  faculties. 

Jack  openly  revolted  against  Harry's  becoming  a  "dig."  As 
for  Stamp,  the  old  dog  had  grown  rather  sour  and  solemn  after 
the  last  boat  race  at  Saratoga  Lake,  and  became  a  dig  and  recluse 
himself,  lying  for  hours  at  a  time  curled  up  in  the  corner  of  the 
sofa,  while  Harry  read  Mill  and  Herbert  Spencer  and  smoked  a 
long  pipe,  until  at  one  of  the  wee  sma'  hours  Jack  and  Caswell,  in 
their  evening  dress,  would  burst  in  upon  him  and  tell  of  what  a 
glorious  dance  they  had  been  having  at  Miss  Mulford's,  or  the 
Talmans',  or  elsewhere.  Clara  Hastings,  although  engaged  to 
Saxton  of  "  '68,"  seemed  to  be  going  about  having  a  very  jolly 
time  of  it.  Once  or  twice  Harry  met  her  in  the  street,  bowed 
coldly,  and  walked  rapidly  on.  Like  many  sweet  young  women 


350  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

who  had  "erred"  by  breaking  hearts,  she  began  now  to  pity  him. 
From  the  way  she  had  succeeded  in  Umpty-four  she  began  to 
believe  she  was  irresistible.  De  Koven  was  her  latest  victim.  He 
wrote  her  many  pretty  poems  and  sent  her  many  bouquets.  To 
what  end?  Although  he  did  keep  careful  copies  and  sent  them  to 
the  Lit.,  afterward,  they  were  rejected  promptly,  and  did  not  even 
receive,  most  of  them,  the  compliment  of  resting  a  moment  in 
Purgatory.*  The  glum  Saxton  of  '68  perhaps  smiled  over  some 
of  De  Koven's  efforts.  But  Jack  and  De  Koven  got  even  with 
him  by  speaking  of  him  alwnys  as  "the  sexton,"  and  Clara's 
marriage  as  her  "funeral." 

The  Puritan  estimate  of  a  lady,  which  Clara  pretended  to  admire 
so  greatly,  but  which  she  hardly  put  herself  out  to  conform  to, 
frowned  upon  pleasure  in  the  young,  and  persuaded  some  of  them 
to  suppress  their  youth,  deny  themselves,  take  solemn  "views"  of 
life,  think  much  on  the  hereafter,  and  try  always  to  be  "serious." 
Clara  was  hardly  of  this  kind.  Youth  comes  but  once.  The  years 
creep  on  fast  enough.  Very  serious  expressions  were  often  on  her 
pretty  lips,  but  hardly  put  in  practice !  She  was  a  gay,  beautiful 
creature  and  she  was  bent  on  having  a  good  time.  Some  might 
have  called  her  a  college  "flirt;"  probably  this  was  rather  too  severe 
a  term  for  the  beautiful  girl.  She  loved  excitement  and  fun. 

Clara  admired  Puritanism  and  bragged  highly  of  her  Puritan 
ancestors,  yet  allowed  herself  much  material  joy  and  many  pleas 
ures.  Daisy  scoffed  at  the  Puritans  and  at  religion,  yet  in  her 
heart  Avore  a  crown  of  thorns  and  denied  herself  much.  Both 
these  fine  girls  were  of  New  England  stock.  Which  was  the  truer 
Puritan  ? 

*  The  revered  society  of  Chi  Delta  Theta,  which  manages  the  Lit. ,  has  (or 
used  to  have)  three  places  to  which  a  contribution  is  consigned  ;  (1)  Heaven, 
*.  e.,  on  the  table,  denoting  acceptance  ;  (2)  Purgatory,  under  the  table  for  a 
second  reading  ;  (3)  Hell,  in  the  waste-paper  basket. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 


THE    LOST    UNFORTUNATE    IS    FOUND. 

ARRY  was  sitting  up  rather  late  in  his  room  on  a 
bleak,  stormy  night  in  December.  The  east  wind 
was  howling  across  the  Sound  and  striking  full 
against  the  front  of  Durfee,  piling  little  clusters 
of  melting  snow  in  the  corners  of  the  window- 
panes.  Harry  thought  he  heard  a  little  low  tap 
at  his  door.  He  listened.  Then  he  credited 
the  tapping  to  his  steam  radiator,  the  usual 
"detonator"  of  their  new  quarters,  and  turned  to 
his  table,  drew  out  some  note-paper  from  a 
drawer,  and  contemplated  writing  to  his  mother,  whom  he  had 
neglected  now  for  nearly  a  week.  Just  then  his  eves  fell  upon  the 
old  freshman  oar  (hung  above  a  picture  of  Thornton)  which  Jack 
had  pulled  with  his  sore  hand  at  Saltonstall.  Near  it  hung  a  base 
ball,  gilded,  with  the  significant  words,  "Cambridge:  Yale  1C, 
Harvard  4,"  printed  in  blue  letters.  He  could  not  write  for  some 
reason.  He  was  weary  with  study,  weary  with  theories  of  "silver 
and  gold  as  a  standard" — he  laid  down  his  pen.  Then  he  thought 
he  heard  the  gentle  tap  on  his  door  once  more. 

This  time  he  went  toward  the  door  and  hesitated  a  moment. 
Who  could  it  be?  Jack  would  not  be  home  till  late.  He  was  at  a 
dance — lie  and  Caswell  with  a  number  of  his  classmates.  It 
couldn't  be  Jack — he  grasped  the  knob  and  opened  it  wide. 

Crouched  in  the  narrow  hallway  was  the  slight  figure  of  a  young 
woman.  Her  face  was  buried  in  her  hands.  She  was  wet  through 
to  the  bone.  She  was  trembling  with  cold  and  wet  and  fear. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  started  to  say.  And  the  figure  shivered  and 
hid  her  head.  Then,  suddenly,  she  turned  and  looked  at  him. 
"My  God!  Ella!"  he  cried,  "is  it  you?" 


352  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"Yes" — and  she  shrunk  away  from  him,  cowering. 

Her  face  was  wan  and  pinched.  Her  pretty  mouth,  her  dark 
eyes,  seemed  set  in  the  face  of  an  old  woman.  It  was  the  last  of 
"Eline  St.  Pierre." 

Harry  did  not  hesitate  now  an  instant.  He  caught  her  up,  half 
lifted  her  in,  and  laid  her,  dripping  and  wet  as  she  was,  on  his 
lounge. 

"Tell  me  where  you  have  been — and  where  you  are  going!"  he 
cried,  half  dazed.  "Do  you  know  how  late  it  is?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  moaned.  "I  am  going  away.  I'm  going 
down  to  the  wharves — before  I  went,  Harry,  I  just  wanted  to  see 
you  once  more." 

He  hurried  to  Jack's  room  and  groped  about  in  his  closet  for  his 
brandy  flask.  His  hand  trembled  like  an  aspen-leaf.  So  Ella  Ger- 
hart,  whom  Grarinis  was  seeking  for  in  California,  had  returned  to 
her  old  home  in  New  Haven  and  had  sought  out  her  old  love ! 
There  was  only  one  thing  now  to  be  done — bring  her  back  to  her 
father  and  take  care  of  her  as  he  would  have  taken  care  of  his  own 
sister.  The  brandy  revived  the  poor  girl,  and  she  sought  to  raise 
herself  and  sit  up. 

"My  poor,  poor  Ella!"  he  cried,  the  tears  almost  coming  into 
his  eyes,  as  he  knelt  by  her  side. 

She  put  out  her  hand  in  a  weak,  groping  sort  of  way,  and  he 
grasped  it.  This  seemed  to  give  her  courage. 

"I  came  to  you,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  "I  want  to  see  you 
again.  I  shan't  live  long." 

"Tell  me — all— everything!"  he  exclaimed  excitedly.  "Do  you 
know  that  Grannis  and  your  father  are  seeking  you  in  California?" 

"Oh,  I  can  never  see  my  father's  face  again!"  she  moaned,  and 
shuddered.  "He  will  never  forgive  me — oh,  it  is  horrible, 
horrible!  I  wish  I  were  dead " 

"Nonsense,  Ella!" 

"I  thought  he  was  an  honorable  man,  as  God  knows.  .  .  He 
promised  he  would  marry  me.  .  .  He  took  me  to  New  Orleans 
—to  San  Francisco — I  trusted  him.  He  swore  he  loved  me.  He 
does  love  me — but  he  went  away  and  left  me." 


THE  LOST   UNFORTUNATE  IS  FOUND.  353 

Harry  said  nothing,  and  presently  Ella  began  again. 

"It  was  in  St.  Louis.  I  was  dancing  there.  He  sent  me  flowers 
every  night.  He  was  rich  and  handsome.  He  made  love  to  me. 
I  believed  he  was  true.  They  all  told  me  he  was  rich  and  that  I 
had  made  a  great  capture,  and  the  very  girls  I  danced  with  helped 
him  on.  I  see  why,  now — they  hated  me.  I  was  dazzled — and 
then — he  persuaded  me  and  I  ran  away." 

The  heat  and  light  of  the  cheerful  room,  and  more  than  all, 
Harry's  sympathy,  encouraged  her.  She  went  on: 

"He  was  good  to  me  in  his  way.  He  gave  me  dresses,  jewelry, 
diamonds,  but  when  I  urged  him  to  marry  me  he  got  very  angry. 
We  lived  in  a  splendid  hotel  in  New  Orleans — 'that  was  last  May 
and  June.  Then  we  went  on  his  ranch  in  Dakota.  Oh,  that  was 
a  beautiful  place  in  the  mountains!  I  was  very  happy  then — 
hidden  away  there.  I  had  my  horses,  my  ponies.  I  was  very 
happy.  I  was  a  sort  of  princess  and  all  the  men  on  the  ranch  were 
my  slaves,  and  my  husband — 

Then  she  burst  into  tears. 

"It  came  to  be  September,  and  he  went  back  to  St.  Louis  and 
then  came  back  to  me  again,  but  he  was  never  the  same  after  that. 
Then  we  traveled,  and  once,  at  Omaha,  out  of  the  car  window,  I 
saw  Mr.  Grannis  walking  back  and  forth  on  the  platform,  and  I 
was  frightened  for  fear  he  would  see  me." 

"Yes,  Grannis  is  out  there  now,  in  California,  searching." 

"But  he  will  never  find  me,  and  I  must  go  now.  I  feel  better. 
I  must  go,  Mr.  Chestleton.  I  have  some  money  yet.  I  have 
enough." 

Then  she  gazed  at  Harry's  face  fully  a  minute  in  silence. 

"Do  you  know  there  is  only  one  place  for  you  to  go  now?"  he 
said  gently — "that  is,  home?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Your  father  is  a  rich  man;  his  electric  light  has  succeeded. 
Think,  Ella,  of  your  mother.  They  are  nearly  crazed  by  your 
absence.  Don't  you  believe  they  love  you?  The  very  money  you 
sent  home  to  your  father  out  of  your  salary  enabled  him  to  perfect 
his  inventions  and  sell  them.  He  will  be  worth— I  don't  know 


354 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


how  much.  They  say  it  is  already  a  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
Can't  you  believe  that  he  will  be  glad  to  see  you,  to  welcome  you 
home — to  forgive  you?" 

"Ach,  nimmer  mehrf"  she  sobbed. 

Her  hair  fell  down,  and  Harry  saw  that,  with  all  her  sad  experi 
ences,  she  still  retained  a  large  portion  of  her  beauty.  He  argued 
and  urged  a  little  while,  then  he  said  firmly,  "Ella,  you  have  vol 
untarily  come  to  me,  and  now,  for  the  present  at  least,  you  must 
do  exactly  what  I  say.  Will  you  obey  me?" 

There  was  a  long  silence,  and  finally  she  whispered,  "Yes." 

"Then  I  will  take  you  to  some  friends  of  mine  for  the  night." 

"Friends?" 

"Mrs.  Gimly  and  Samanthy,  where  I  used  to  board  as  a  fresh 
man.  They  will  take  care  of  you,  and  to-morrow  I  shall  take  you 
to  Cleveland.  I  shall  myself  take  you  home." 

In  his  agony  over  the  poor  willful  girl,  and  the  pain  at  his  con 
science  that  his  first  desertion  of  her  had  paved  the  way  to  her 
ruin,  he  would  gladly  have  undergone  any  sacrifice,  now,  for  her 
sake. 

"Home,"  she  murmured  twice  over  to  herself.  "I  dare  not  go 
home." 

"I  will  go  with  you.  I  will  explain  and  prepare  them  all.  Not 
one  word  shall  be  said  against  you.  Oh,  my  dear  girl,  I  myself 
have  been  to  blame  for  all  this!  " 

"Hush,  Harry!  I  did  not  come  here  to  disturb  you,  to  worry 
you.  I  only  wanted  to  see  you  and  then  go  away — out  of  your 
sight  forever." 

"You  did  right  to  come  to  me,  and  to  trust  me  to  do  what  was 
right.  Now  just  forget  the  past.  It's  done  with — it's  over.  Can 
you  get  ready  to  start — it's  only  a  little  way  over  to  York  Street, 
you  know.  The  Gimlys  are  kind-hearted  folk;  they  won't  say 
a  word.  To-morrow,  or  when  you  are  stronger,  we'll  go  away 
quietly — home.  Poor  girl — dear,  dear  Ella!  Don't  sob  so. 
Your  mother  longs  to  see  you ;  they  are  rich  now.  They— they'll 
take  you  to  Europe,  and  you'll  forget — yes,  you'll  be  very  happy, 
my  poor — darling." 


THE   LOST    UNFORTUNATE  IS  FOUND.  355 

The  word  came  out  almost  before  he  was  aware  of  it.  She  stood 
up  and  he  caught  her  tottering  in  his  arms.  His  heart  told  him  he 
could  say  anything — any  loving  words  to  persuade  her.  It  was 
almost  his  duty.  Oh,  ho'w  he  repented  then  the  silly  flirtation  of 
his  freshman  year! 

Ella  perceived  his  motive. 

A  solemn-eyed  professor  roomed  in  Durf'ee,  just  over  Harry's 
room,  and  he  wondered  just  what  would  happen  if  he  should  ven 
ture  down,  hearing  a  woman's  voice  at  that  late  hour  in  college. 
"Lord!"  he  thought,  "what  a  row  there 'd  be!" 

"Let  me  slip  this  ulster  of  mine  over  you — there!  and  can  you 
walk?  let's  start  for  Mrs.  Gimly's.  The  first  thing  is  to  think  of 
you." 

She  was  but  a  pretty  child  still.  Her  pale,  mobile  face,  framed 
in  her  long,  dark,  luxuriant  hair,  which  had  fallen  over  her 
shoulders,  was  touching  in  its  expression  of  helplessness.  That 
she  should  have  been  forced  to  go  out  into  the  world  and  earn  her 
living — to  combat  with  fortune,  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  temptation 
and  sin!  Harry  felt  a  tide  of  compassion  well  up  within  him  and 
almost  prevent  his  speaking  coherently.  The  pathos  of  it!  She 
had  been  so  dutiful — had  sent  nearly  all  her  salary  home;  had  lived 
on  the  scantiest  portion;  had  tried  to  do  right,  he  knew — and  at 
the  wrong  moment  he  had  taken  a  prop  from  under  her,  and  when 
this  rich,  unscrupulous  St.  Louis  admirer  came  along  and  stole  his 
perfidious  way  to  her  innocent,  childish  heart — she  fell,  because 
she  needed  love  and  kindness  and  support. 

"Thank  God!"  he  thought,  "she  has  come  back  at  last." 

Fortunately  it  was  very  dark  and  rainy,  and  no  one  saw  them  as 
they  passed,  under  an  umbrella,  across  the  campus  by  the  library, 
toward  York  Street.  Somehow  Ella  seemed  to  throw  oft'  her 
sorrow  now  in  a  light-hearted  fashion.  He  secretly  rejoiced.  "She 
is  not  of  the  kind  to  let  crushing  despair  haunt  her  very  long,"  he 
thought,  "yet — if  she  had  not  fortunately  found  me,  what  would 
she  have  done?  Perhaps  drowned  herself." 

Arrived  at  Mrs.  Gimly's  they  rang  half  a  do/en  times  before  the 
good  landlady  arose  and  lighted  her  lamp.  At  last  she  peered  out 


356  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

at  them,  after  chaining  the  door  carefully.  It  took  Harry  ten 
minutes  to  explain.  As  he  was  not  now  a  wicked  sophomore,  but 
a  mild  and  godly  junior,  a  friend  of  freshmen,  she  finally  (on 
receipt  of  ten  dollars)  let  them  in. 

Harry  did  not  tell  Mrs.  Gimly  Ella's  story,  and  he  let  the  kind- 
hearted  Samanthy  believe  that  Ella  was  a  Fair  Haven  young  lady 
who  was  too  late  for  the  last  horse-car.  They  bustled  about  in 
the  warm  kitchen.  The  fire  being  in  a  state  so  that  it  quickly 
started  up  again,  Samanthy  furnished  Ella  warm  dry  clothing, 
which  she  put  on  in  the  former's  quaint  little  bedroom.  As  the 
fire  grew  hot  Harry  himself  stirred  the  hot  oysters  and  helped 
brew  the  tea,  while  Mrs.  Gimly  whispered  in  Ella's  ear,  as  she  sat 
silently  by  the  stove: 

"He's  a  good  young  man,  to  my  sartain  knowledge,  bein'  in  my 
house,  him  an'  a  limb  named  Mr.  Rives,  a  year  as  freshmen,  both. 
Oh,  I'd  trust  him  with  my  darter  Samanthy  fer  to  go  to — say  a 
picnic  or  a  clam-bake — any  day;  but  he  never  ast  her." 

Ella  bowed  her  head  and  smiled.  Her  eyes  followed  Harry 
around  the  warm,  snug  kitchen  as  a  dog's  will  its  master.  More 
than  any  woman  that  ever  lived  she  needed  a  strong,  firm  will  to 
control  her — to  love  her. 

Poor,  pretty, unfortunate!  His  heart  yearned  for  her  as  she  sat 
in  Samanthy's  queer  gown,  warm  and  dry,  thank  God!  and  with  a 
smile  of  thankfulness  on  her  lips. 

Harry  left  presently.  "See  that  she  is  made  warm  and  comfort 
able,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Gimly.  " Her  parents  are  wealthy."  He 
knew  Mrs.  Gimly  would  respect  her  charge  after  that.  "She's  got 
wet  through,  you  see.  Here's  five  more.  Don't  say  a  word.  To 
morrow  I'm  going  to  take  her  home." 

"An'  so  you're  good,  too,  Mister  Chissleton,  an'  Samanthy  says 
so,  too.  You  paid  us  reg'lar  fer  things  broke  an'  not  broke,  too 
— you,  a  friend  of  Professor  Shepard's — an'  if  I  can  serve  you,  me 
an'  Samanthy,  waal,  guess  we'll  try.  She  shan't  be  made  uncom 
fortable,  an'  it's  fortnit  she  happened  along  jest  now,  fer  rent 
comes  due  next  Monday  week,  an'  the  top  front  room's  ben  to  let 
all  the  term.  Of  course  if  her  parints  cum  to  make  inquiries,  why 


THE   LOST   UNFORTUNATE  IS  FOUND.  357 

— shall  I  say  you  jest  seen  her  a-walkin'  'long  Chapel  Street  like, 
an'  you  jest  fetched  her  in,  say?" 

"Oh,  they  won't  bother."  Harry  ran  out,  and  over  to  his  room, 
in  a  happier  yet  tremendously  excited  state  of  mind.  That  night 
he.  could  not  sleep.  He  heard  the  chapel  bell  toll  out  the  tragic 
hours  till  morning. 

After  chapel  next  morning  he  went  straight  to  Professor  Shepard 
with  the  whole  story,  and  it  wasn't  long  before  he  had  his  permis 
sion  to  absent  himself  from  college  for  a  few  days.  It  happened 
to  be  at  a  time  when  he  could  get  away  over  Sunday  just  as  well  as 
not.  He  telegraphed  his  mother  to  meet  them  in  New  York  and 
go  on  to  Cleveland  with  them.  lie  telegraphed  Grannis  in  San 
Francisco — and  he  told  dear  old  Jack  never  a  word  about  it  all. 
He  couldn't  just  then;  he  felt  too  deeply.  He  couldn't  endure  any 
chaffing. 

"How  the — what  makes  this  sofa  so  damp?"  growled  the  good 
fellow,  who  felt  a  little  grumpy  after  his  dance,  the  next  morning. 

"Oh — Stamp,  probably!"  said  Harry,  packing  his  valise  fora 
Sunday  home,  as  he  said. 

"Caswell  and  I  are  invited  down  to  the  Dolphins'  for  over 
Sunday,  so  we  won't  miss  you,  old  dig!"  said  Jack  laconically. 
"Come  here,  Stamp.  I'll  lick  the  hide  off  you,  you  dear  old 
rascal !" 

And  so  Harry  said  good-by  and  departed. 

Mrs.  Chestleton  cried  over  poor  Ella  for  an  hour  as  they  rolled 
up  the  Hudson  in  the  easy  drawing-room  car,  but  she  soon  got 
over  this.  She  saw  that  it  was  her  duty,  as  Harry  insisted— it 
was  odd  how  she  had  begun  to  defer  to  this  wise  young  man— to 
cheer  the  girl  up;  to  take  her  mind  off  the  past,  and  to  prepare  her 
for  the  trying  meeting  with  her  mother  and  sisters  at  home.  She 
had  not  left  her  brother,  Dick  Lyman,  at  home  in  New  York  in  an 
especially  equable  frame  of  mind.  He  had,  indeed,  openly  pro 
tested. 

"Whoare  these  Gerharts?"  he  asked.  "Who  is  this  Ella?  A 
pretty,  sad  face,  no  doubt— but  lias  Harry  wronged  her  in  any 
way?  Why,  if  he  had  ruined  her,  you  two  couldn't  be  doing  more 


358  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

for  her!"  Yet  the  good  fellow  saw  them  off  at  the  station,  and 
acted  toward  Ella  as  if  she  was  a  princess  in  the  land.  Secretly  he 
would  not  have  liked  it  at  all  if  his  sister  and  nephew  had  acted 
toward  her  in  any  other  way. 

"Poor  girl!  poor  girl!"  he  said  to  Harry.  "Thank  God,  she 
was  not  led  astray  by  any  Yale  man !  But  I  think,  if  no  one 
knows,  it's  right  enough  to  send  her  home  alone.  I  don't  believe 
she  will  like  to  have  you  all  standing  around  when  she  enters  her 
father's  house.  But  it's  like  you,  sister,  and  Harry  is  like  you. 
Egad!  She's  had  a  hard  time." 

Harry  never  forgot  that  trip  to  Cleveland.  The  Gerharts  had, 
indeed,  come  up  astonishingly  in  the  world,  and  lived  in  a  hand 
some  house  which  the  old  man  had  purchased  at  a  bargain — house, 
horses,  furniture,  and  all.  They  took  their  good  fortune  modestly, 
and  they  were  more  pleased  to  get  Ella  home  again  than  anything 
else  that  had  happened  to  them.  There  was  very  little  "forgiving" 
done.  Mrs.  Gerhart  received  her  with  open  arms.  All  the  sisters 
were  at  home  now,  and  two  were  engaged.  Grannis  had  become 
rich  in  a  lesser  degree  with  them,  and  during  all  his  long  summer 
and  autumn  quest  after  Ella,  had  kept  himself  at  the  control  of  the 
new  company,  pushing  its  interests  with  true  Western  grit  in 
every  city  in  which  he  temporarily  sojourned.  Grannis  was  an 
ideal  business  man — keen,  alert,  sagacious,  and  fond  of  making 
money.  It  was  his  management  which  had  made  the  Gerhart 
electric  patents  as  valuable  as  they  were. 

Harry  and  his  mother  drove  about  the  most  beautiful  of  Western 
cities  and  saw  the  stately  home  of  Clara  Hastings,  on  Euclid 
Avenue.  The  elegant  house,  with  its  gardens,  its  greenhouse,  and 
its  beautiful  elms  occupied  an  entire  square. 

"This  is  the  home—a  fit  one,  too,  for  your  princess,  Clara,"  said 
his  mother.  "It's  an  American  palace." 

Harry  was  silent.  After  a  little  while  he  said,  "I  shall  never 
marry.  I— I  think  I  would  like  to  go  into  the  army.  I  don't 
think  I'm  fitted  for  girls— I  either  bring  disaster  in  some  way  to 
them  or  I — I  get  left." 

With  what  relief  he  returned  to  hard  work  in  college!     He  had 


THE   LOST    UNFORTUNATE   IS  FOUND.  359 

told  no  one  of  the  secret  remorse  over  poor  Ella  which  had  for 
a  year  been  tormenting  him.  No  wonder  the  poor  lad  was 
disconsolate ! 

A  week  or  so  later  he  received  the  following  letter  from  Grannis, 
dated  Cleveland: 

MY  DEAR  CHESTNUTS  : 

God  bless  you  and  your  kind  mother  !  so  Old  Gerhart  and  I  both  say  every  day. 
For  some  time  Ella  kept  her  room  and  would  see  no  one  outside  of  her  family. 
But  now  she  is  willing  to  see  me,  and  they  have  told  her  how  I  have  been  all 
through  the  West  in  search  of  her.  It  was  while  she  was  on  the  ranch  in  the 
mountains  that  I  lost  all  trace  of  her.  She  says  she  wrote  many  letters  home, 
but  that  villain  never  allowed  them  to  go.  She  says  she  will  never  marry,  now, 
and  will  simply  live  to  take  care  of  her  old  father.  Sometimes  she  sits  all  day 
long  silently  crying.  Her  heart  is  breaking,  and  so,  Harry,  is  mine.  .  . 
However,  we  hope  things  will  change.  The  wretch  sent  her  u  check  for 
ten  thousand  dollars,  but  she  returned  it  at  once.  Next  spring  the  Gerharts  are 
going  to  Germany  for  the  summer — partly  business,  too.  There  is  another 
thing,  you  know  we  are  making  plenty  of  money.  We  both  want  you  in  this 
electric  business.  When  you  graduate  we'll  see  you  get  a  soft  berth  at  once. 
Nevers  writes  you  are  getting  to  be  a  hard-working  dig.  That's  right.  Don't 
fool  away  all  your  time  on  athletics.  Yale  College  is  the  place  to  learn  how 
to  work.  Met  Yale  men  all  over  the  AVest.  They  are  always  the  leading  best 
citizens  wherever  you  go.  I  delivered  a  lecture  on  Yale  for  a  charity  in  Salt 
Lake  City  !  Yon  can  bet  I  always  say  the  best  word  I  can  for  the  old  college. 
Some  day  I  am  going  back  to  graduate,  but  now  I'm  in  my  element— business. 
By  the  bye,  I've  placed  old  Iletherington,  at  last,  in  a  small  town  where  liquor 
is  prohibited.  lie  is  doing  very  well,  too. 

Write  me  all  the  news,  and  give  my  regards  to  all  the  boys  of  Umpty-four. 
Has  Bob  Clark  forgiven  my  desertion  yet  ?  Poor  Hob  !  Harvard  ought  to 
have  rowed  that  race  over  again  at  Saratoga.  To  my  mind  it  showed  she  was  a 
' '  leetel  feared,"  as  they  say  in  Arizona.  Regards  to  Jack  and  all.  So  good-by. 

Your  friend, 

OLD  GKAN. 

P.  S.  Ella  is  going  to  let  me  take  her  out  driving  next  Saturday.  I'm  going 
to  be  just  friendly— that's  all.  You  ought  to  see  her  ;  her  beauty  is  so  delicate, 
so  refined  !  She  is  as  lovely — more  lovely  than  ever  ! 

"Dear  old  Gran!"  sighed  Harry,  as  he  folded  the  letter  and  put 
it  away.  "I  think  he's  the  noblest  man  in  the  world  to  still 
love  poor  Ella  after  all  that's  happened.  She's  learned  a  terrible 


360  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

lesson,  poor,  poor  girl!  and  in  fact  so  have  I!  But  how  glad  I 
am  Hetherington  is  going  to  get  started  again  out  West !  He  was 
simply  going  to  the  dogs  here." 

"Dear  old  Gran,"  he  wrote  in  reply,  "How  much  good  you  do 
in  the  world — and  it  seems  to  come  so  easy  to  you!  You  are  a 
man!  you  quietly  do  Avhat's  right — and  you  don't  seem  to  care 
what  anyone  else  says.  I  think  that's  the  diff.  between  a  Western 
chap  and  an  Eastern.  We,  here,  dread  too  much  what  our  neigh 
bors  will  say  and  think.  You  first  size  up  what  your  consciences 
tell  you  is  right,  then  you  bust  right  ahead.  As  for  Ella — I  felt 
for  her  a  whole  year  as  if  she  was  my  own  sister — she's  just  as 
pure  and  good  a  girl  as  ever  lived !  She  has  been  sinned  against, 
and  has  been  innocent  through  it  all." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE    JUNIOR    PROMENADE. 

DURING  Christmas  holidays  Harry  amused 
himself  at  home,  playing,  as  he  said,  for  a 
time,  "  the  elder  brother  act."  A  strange  calm  had 
come  over  him  now.  He  was  remarkably  philo 
sophical  concerning  most  matters  and  things.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  period  of  his  youth  had  closed.  It 
is  often  remarked  that  a  student  grows  to  be  very 
"  old  "  until  graduation,  and  then  grows  steadily 
younger  again  until  his  fortieth  year.  It  was  very 
amusing  to  his  mother  to  see  how  he  lorded  it  witli 
a  calm  superiority  over  his  sister  Kate.  His  mother 
felt  sorry  for  him,  but  she  thought,  on  the  whole,  his  great  disap 
pointment  and  the  Ella  Gerhart  affair  had  been  a  good  thing  for 
him.  His  trials  had.  resulted  in  an  unfortunate  tendency  to  agnos 
ticism,  but  on  this  head  her  brother  comforted  her  a  great  deal  by 
telling  her  that  it  was  a  phase  which  every  thoughtful  student  had 
to  pass  through  during  some  time  of  his  college  existence. 

"  Why,"  said  Lyman,  "  when  I  was  in  college  we  were  all  howl 
ing  atheists  for  a  time  ;  but  we  soon  got  over  it.     Harry  will  out 
grow  it.     Believe  me,  he'll  see  that  the  Church,  after  all,  meets  the 
needs  of  humanity  more  perfectly  than  any  philosophy." 
His  mother  sighed — and  waited. 

Meanwhile  the  great  Umpty-four  Junior  Promenade,  in  Febru 
ary,  drew  on  apace.  No  such  elegant  invitations  had  been  gotten 
out  before,  no  such  magnificent  preparations  made,  no  such  supper 
ordered  from  Delmonico's.  Jack  Rives  and  Caswell  went  in  to 
make  it  the  greatest  ball  New  Haven  had  ever  seen. 

O 

"  Umpty-four  is  a  great  society  class,"  they  said,  "  and  it's  due  to 

361 


362  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

our  friends  to  'hump'  ourselves."  They  went  about  and  raised 
all  the  money  they  could  in  the  class,  and  then  Caswell's  father 
donated  five  hundred  dollars  more.  They  were  to  have  two  New 
York  bands,  and  old  Music  Hall  on  Orange  Street  was  to  bloom 
and  blossom  with  flags,  flowers,  and  decorations. 

At  length  the  night  of  the  great  ball  arrived.  The  weather  was 
clear  and  rnild.  The  snow  had  not  yet  melted  away.  It  was  a 
perfect  night.  As  Harry  and  Danforth  walked  over  toward 
Chapel  Street  from  Durfee,  the  moon  threw  a  tender  light  on  the 
snow  through  the  elm  branches.  The  long  brick  row  was  aglow 
with  gaslight.  Across  College  Street,  the  Greek  Parthenon  of  a 
State  House*  gleamed  out  white  and  beautiful  in  the  moonlight. 
There  were  closed  carriages  going  and  coming.  Excitement, 
delight,  jollity,  was  in  the  keen  air.  It  was  Umpty-four's 
accepted  time  of  youth  and  love  and  merriment. 

Never  again — never  again  will  a  ball  seem  so  glorious  as  then  to 
these  young  Americans !  All  night  long,  while  the  moon  swung 
over  and  dipped  into  the  west  and  the  gray  dawn  tinted  the  east, 
they  danced  and  made  love  to  the  most  beautiful  girls  in 'the 
world — for  they  were  never  to  be  so  quite  intoxicatingly  lovely 
again,  never  so  charming  again  in  after-life  ! 

To  be  sure,  they  would  have  their  senior  ball  at  Commencement — 
large,  indiscriminate  family  affairs  these,  which  never  were  known 
to  contain  very  many  pretty  girls  except  by  accident.  They  were 
always  a  sort  of  alumni  gathering,  similar  to  the  president's 
reception  at  the  Art  Building — these  hot  senior  "  proms "  in 
Alumni  Hall. 

But  the  Junior  Promenade  came  at  a  time  in  winter  when  noth 
ing  else  happened  in  college — when  no  one  was  racing,  or  base- 
balling,  or  studying,  or — anything  ;  in  the  dull  February,  when 
it  shone  like  a  star  by  itself  and  kept  hearts  beating  and  life  going 
until  the  Easter  holidays.  No  wonder  Yale  men  look  back,  at  the 
distance  of  twenty  years,  and  sigh  over  their  experiences  at  the 
Junior  Ball. 

*The  State  House,  once  the  most  formidable  stucco  building  on  New  Haven 
green,  was  destroyed  in  1881,  when  Hartford  became  the  capital  of  Connecticut. 


: 


SHE    WAS   1'KOUD    OF    HER    TWO   CHILDREN    THAT    NIUHT. 


364  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

And  with  the  girls  !  All  their  real  life  dated,  to  some  of  them, 
from  that  third  or  sixteenth  or  twenty-third  Lander's  waltz  ! 

Harry  and  Dan  strolled  into  the  New  Haven  House  and  sent 
up  word  by  the  perennial  fat-boy  clerk,  who  from  time  immemo 
rial  seemed  to  haunt  those  pleasing  shades,  to  Mrs.  Chestleton  and 
Kitty,  that  they  and  the  carriage  were  waiting.  It  was  now  about 
ten  o'clock.  In  the  parlors  upstairs  they  found  dozens  of  becloaked 
and  behooded  girls,  with  chaperons  and  without,  awaiting  or  chat 
ting  with  their  brothers  and  escorts,  in  readiness  to  leave  for  the 
the  ball.  Everyone  was  laughing  and  excited.  "  Ah,  there, 
Harry  !  "  called  out  a  class-mate,  as  Harry  and  Dan  bowed.  "  Oh, 
is  that  the  famous  battery  ?  How  dean  they  look  !  "  from  a  pretty 
girl  in  a  pink  opera-cloak,  who  glanced  at  them  saucily. 

But  just  then  Danforth  violently  gripped  Harry's  arm.  A  vision 
was  coming  downstairs,  in  white,  with  gorgeous  blue  ribbons, 
carrying  her  opera-cloak  on  her  arm.  The  vision  was  followed  by 
a  tall  lady,  in  a  rich,  violet-colored  velvet  dress.  The  vision  was 
in  high  color  as  to  its  cheeks,  and  its  pretty  shoulders  were  just 
visible.  Actually  it  seemed  to  be  a  tall  confusion  of  lace  and  white 
mull  and  Jacqueminot  roses,  which  Dan  had  sent. 

"  Kitty,  how  sweet  you  look  !  "  cried  Harry,  astonished.  He 
couldn't  help  it  ;  he  suddenly  leaned  forward  and  kissed  her  pout 
ing  lips.  She  was  angry  enough  to  have  boxed  his  ears. 

"How  can  you  be  so  silly  before  all  these  people  !"  she  cried, 
indicating  the  swell  crowd  in  the  hallway  and  parlor.  Then  turn 
ing,  "  How  I  do  wish  that  Bessie  Rives  was  here — wasn't  it  mean 
of  the  general  not  to  let  her  come  ?" 

"Isn't  she  sweet?"  laughed  and  beamed  Mrs.  Chestleton 
proudly.  Indeed  she  was  proud  of  her  two  children  that  night. 
Kitty  thawed  a  little.  "I  don't  mean  to  be  cross,  Harry,  but  I— 
I'm  no  longer  a  little  girl,  you  know  ;  besides,  you  tumble  my 
dress  all  up." 

Danforth  was  all  smiles  and  bows.  She  had  given  him  the 
grand  march  in  and  the  first  dance,  and  Harry  had  sent  her  card 
around  among  the  nicest  men  in  the  class. 

Dan  would  not  ride  down  in  the  carriage  with  them.     "  One  of 


THE  JUNIOR  PROMENADE.  365 

his  nonsensical  notions,"  laughed  Harry.  "  He  always  will  put 
himself  out  if  he  can.  He's  afraid  of  crumpling  you.  Dear  old 
Dan  !  Kitty,  I  want  you  to  be  just  as  kind  to  him  as  you  can  be 
to-night,  for  my  sake.  I  would  never  have  pitched  a  game  if  he 
hadn't  persuaded  Harding " 

Kitty  made  a  face. 

"  He  looks  so  ungainly  in  his  dress-suit." 

"  Ungainly  ?  Everyone  thinks  he's  graceful,"  and  Harry  pulled 
on  his  white  gloves. 

Dan  was  there  to  meet  them,  at  Music  Hall,  and  there,  too,  was 
the  gorgeous  Jack,  full  of  importance, with  along  white  satin  badge 
in  his  lapel.  Kitty,  blushing  furiously,  gave  her  hand  to  Jack  and 
was  helped  out  by  his  strong,  gloved  hand. 

"  Kate  !  My  stars,  how  we  girls  grow  !  "  he  laughed,  and  if  he 
had  kissed  her  she  would  have  thanked  him,  he  was  so  handsome 
— such  a  preuy,  chevalier. 

"  Is  this  your  sister  ?  "  he  pretended,  as  he  helped  her  mother 
out. 

"  Ah,  Jack  !  "  laughed  Mrs.  Chestleton.  "  Do  you  expect  me, 
too,  to  fall  in  love  writh  you  ?  " 

"  I  only  expect — reciprocity  !  "  he  laughed. 

All  this,  and  poor  Danforth  stood  awkwardly  at  one  side  look 
ing  on.  They  waited  for  them  at  the  dressing-room  again,  and 
crowds  surged  past  them.  The  ball  was  about  to  begin.  Sud 
denly  Harry  was  made  aware  of  a  presence  near  him.  He  did  not 
turn. 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  pass,  please  ? "  It  was  the  same  old 
low,  sweet  voice.  He  bowed  ;  Clara  nodded  lightly,  gave  him  a 
swift  glance,  and  passed  him  with  her  maid,  followed  by  Miss 
Mulford,  in  lavender.  Kate  came  out  and  said  that,  "Jack  was  to 
lead  off  the  march  with  Miss  Hastings  ;  and,  do  you  know,  they 
say  her  engagement  is  broken,  Harry — so  there  is  hope  yet  ! 

Harry  started.     "  What's  that  to  me  ?  "  he  asked  gruffly. 

"  Oh,  nothing.     I  thought  you  might  want  to  know  ;  that's  all." 

The  large  opera-house  was  a  mass  of  flowers,  its  ugliness  and 
tawdriness  well  concealed  even  to  the  great  chandelier  which  hung 


3 66  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

from  the  ceiling.  There  were  Shells  and  boats,  flags  and  gas-jets  of 
"  Umpty-four  "  and  "  Yale,"  and  long  festoons  of  evergreen. 

"Oh,  there's  Mr.  Nevers!  Do  bring  him  up  ;  I  want  to  con 
gratulate  him  on  taking  the  Lit.  medal,"  said  Mrs.  Chestleton. 

Nevers  shook  hands  with  her  warmly.  "  I've  just  heard  all 
about  Ella  Gerhart,"  he  said.  "Grannis  has  written  me.  Of 
course  Harry  would  never  tell  a  soul  anything.  I  think  your  going 
'way  out  to  Cleveland  with  that  girl,  Mrs.  Chestleton,  was  the 
noblest  thing  I  ever  heard  of.  It  was  just  as — as — tine  as " 

"  Silk  !  "  suggested  Harry. 

"  Well,  it  was  !  I  wish  I  had  a  mother  like  you.  My  mother 
died  years  ago,  soon  after  I  was  born.  I'm  so  sorry  for  Harry  to 
night,"  lie  whispered.  "  Miss  Hastings  is,  of  course,  looking  her 
best.  He  has  just  heard  she  has  broken  her  engagement." 

"  Has  she  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Chestleton. 

"  A  flirt,  that's  all  she  is,"  said  Nevers,  with  a  gesture  of  anger. 

"  Depend  upon  it,  she  will  get  him  to  dance  with  her." 

"  Oh,  Harry  is  greatly  changed.  He  doesn't  care  for  girls  now. 
I  think  he's  entirely  gotten  over  that  affair  now,"  said  Danforth. 

Mrs.  Cliestleton  shook  her  head.  Then,  as  Harry  urged,  they 
went  down  on  the  floor  for  the  march.  The  music  began.  In 
walked  Jack  with  Clara  looking  as  stately  and  superb  as  a  queen. 
The  committee  and  their  "  girls  "  filed  in  after  them — a  splendid 
file  of  them  !  % 

"It's  as  bad  as  Yale  and  Harvard  drawing  side  by  side  positions 
at  Saratoga  ! "  laughed  Nevers. 

"  Is  there  not  sure  to  be  a  contretemps,  Harry  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Chestleton  lightly. 

"  Mother,  dear,  isn't  she  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  the  whole 
world?"  Harry's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  Clara. 

Around  her  white  throat  Clara  wore  one  string  of  pearls.  She 
wore  a  gown  her  father  had  sent  over  from  Worth  ;  she  was  easily 
the  loveliest  girl  at  the  Prom. 

It  was  odd  to  see  what  a  belle  Mrs.  Chestleton,  too,  became  that 
evening.  It  was  not  solely  because  of  Harry's  great  and  deserved 
popularity,  but  because  she  was  in  herself  pretty,  graceful,  and 


THE  JUNIOR   PROMENADE.  367 

full  of  esprit.  What  her  children  liked  she  liked.  She  danced 
half  a  dozen  square  dances,  and  entered  into  the  affair  with  the 
greatest  zest.  "  Why  should  we  old  ladies  retire  ?  "  she  demanded 
laughingly,  and  no  one  could  answer  her  to  the  contrary.  And  there, 
too,  was  Uncle  Dick  himself  coining  up  and  pretending  he  was  a 
junior  too,  with  a  B  K  E  pin,  his  old  trick,  and  asking  to  be  presented 
to  Kitty,  lie  had  run  up  at  the  last  moment  that  evening  from  New 
York.  Later  they  saw  him  devoting  himself  with  all  his  old-time 
gallantry  to  Miss  Walker,  who  was  radiant  in  blue  satin  and  old 
lace. 

"Ah,  let  me  see,"  they  overheard  him  ask  her,  "This  is 
your — 

"  Twentieth  Junior  Prom.  Yes,  and  I  hope  I  may  live  to  see 
my  fortieth,"  she  laughed  facetiously. 

"Bah!  Miss  Walker,  I  used  to  see  you  trundling  a  hoop,  in 
front  of  South,  when  I  was  in  college — you  were  a  child  then — and 
that's  not  so  many  years  ago." 

She  gave  him  a  grateful  glance. 

"  It's  a  terrible  misfortune  for  a  girl  to  live  in  a  college  town," 
she  sighed.  "  Students  come  and  students  go,  but  yon  go  on  for 
ever.  Do  you  know  this  continuous  pouring  through  of  students 
wears  out  the  brain  after  a  time  ?  My  father  says  it's  like  the  pre 
cession  of  the  equinoxes,  only  a  great  deal  worse.  There  is  no 
change,  no  cessation." 

Presently  a  set  formed  for  a  quadrille — Harry  and  a  Miss  Dol 
phin,  Jack  and  Annie  Mead,  Lvman  and  Miss  Walker,  and  just 
then — to  fill  up — Caswell  and  Clara  Hastings  happened  along  arm 
in  arm. 

"  Hurry  up — here's  your  place — just  waiting!  "  called  out  Jack. 

Before  he  knew  it  Harry  found  himself  opposite  the  most,  beauti 
ful  girl  of  the  evening,  for  Clara's  appearance  that  night  was 
simply  overpowering.  Miss  Walker  confided  to  Miss  Dolphin — to 
whom  Harry  presented  her — that  "  it  was  a  real  Worth  creation," 
and  purchased  for  the  occasion. 

There  was  something  patrician  in  the  elegance  of  her  carriage. 
In  a  year  of  society  she  had  acquired  a  manner.  She  was  in  com- 


368  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

mand  of  herself— calm,  beautiful,  superb.  At  her  corsage,  in  the 
fashion  of  the  day,  she  wore  a  huge  bunch  of  La  France  roses.  Gas- 
well  had  been  trying  to  get  her  to  sit  out  the  dance  with  him,  and 
was  much  provoked  that  she  allowed  Jack  to  inveigle  them  into  a 
"  stupid  "  quadrille.  The  chairman's  command  had  to  be  obeyed, 
as  it  seemed.  Caswell,  pale  and  with  a  slightly  dissipated,  ciga 
rette-smoker's  complexion,  concealed  his  vexation  as  best  he  could. 
It  was  awkward  all  around.  Miss  Mead  of  Stratford,  one  of 
Jack's  rustication  "  adorables," — and  he  still  kept  up  an  infrequent 
correspondence, — and  Jack  and  Miss  Louise  Dolphin  had  only 
recently  agreed  to  disagree.  As  for  Harry  and  Clara — Caswell 
smirked  and  smiled  under  his  long  handsome  mustache  and 
wondered  what  Jack,  who  so  generally  kept  himself  wide-awake, 
could  be  thinking  of. 

The  fact  was  that  Clara  herself  asked  the  good  fellow  to  bring 
it  about.  She  bore  no  ill-will,  and  her  conscience  did  not  smite 
her  for  anything  she  had  done.  Indeed,  what  had  she  done?  It 
was  no  fault  of  hers  if  half  Yale  College  fell  in  love  with  her 
beautiful  face! 

The  lively  music  began — an  amusing  quadrille  written  out  by  a 
musical  genius  in  the  class  for  the  occasion.  Every  now  and  then 
there  was  a  refrain  shouted  by  the  orchestra.  It  was  a  rollicking, 
jolly  quadrille,  full  of  life  and  motion.  Everybody  in  New  Haven 
was  whistling  it  the  next  day.  At  the  close  the  cry  was  Facultee 
—facultee!  and  everyone  was  called  on  to  Disperse!  disperse! 

During  the  dance  Clara,  in  passing  Harry,  whispered,  "  Why 
are  you  so  cruelly  unkind  to  me  ?  " 

He  smiled  bitterly,  and  the  next  time  they  crossv  over,  said, 
"Because  you  are  always  unkindly  cruel  to  me." 

"  I  thought  we  were  friends  at  least,"  she  said. 

"  So  we  are,"  he  replied,  "  I  hope.     Friends — at  last  !  " 

Then  after  "  visiting  "  the  opposite  couples  they  came  together 
again. 

"  Friends  !  "  she  smiled,  so  enchantingly  that  he  felt  his  soul 
drawn  from  his  very  eyes  into  hers. 

The  next  "  crossing  "  she  slipped  her  dance-card  into  his  gloved 


THE  JUNIOR  PROMENADE.  369 

hand.  "  Do  you  see  all  those  places  reserved  ?  "  she  whispered — 
"  For  you  !  " 

He  glanced  at  the  card.  There  were  some  three  or  four  dances 
left  blank.  In  these  he  thoughtless]}'  scribbled  his  name.  His 
head  was  in  a  whirl.  Were  these  blanks  really  intended  for  him — 
or  for  Saxton?  Was  the  old  flame  to  be  relit?  Why  did  his 
heart  leap  so  at  the  touch  of  her  hand  ?  At  the  end  of  the  quad 
rille  he  took  Annie  Mead  to  her  seat,  and  left  her  rather  abruptly. 
He  wanted  to  be  alone.  Clara's  glance,  and  her  word  "  Friends  !  " 
had  penetrated  his  very  soul. 

Could  it  be  possible  ?  He  had  thought  all  the  year  that  he 
would  never  speak  with  her  again  if  he  could  help  it.  Now  he  was 
wild  for  her  dance  with  him  to  come. 

"  Clara  is  certainly  very  lovely,"  said  his  mother  when  he 
rejoined  her.  "  She  has  a  good  deal  of  manner  for  such  a  young 
girl  ;  she  hasn't  the  rare  sweetness  of  that  wild  rose,  Annie  Mead 
of  Stratford.  I  wonder  you  don't  lose  your  heart  to  her  !  " 

"  Miss  Mead  is — I  don't  know — without  any  fire.  I  don't  think 
I  like  '  goodness  '  in  girls.  I'm  afraid  I  like  them  full  of  high 
crimes  and  misdemeanors  !  " 

"  Harry,  what  sentiments  /"  exclaimed  his  mother,  aghast. 

And  he  rushed  off  again  to  meet  his  engagement  to  waltz  with 
Miss  Hargreaves,  who  was  up  from  New  York  with  the  Columbia 
"  crowd." 

"  So  Clara  Hastings  has  broken  her  engagement,"  she  said,  her 
head  above  his  shoulder  in  the  dance.  "  I  knew  it  would  be  so. 
She's  a  flirt.  She  always  will  be  a  flirt.  One  of  those  serious 
flirts  who  aluttys  seem  to  have  so  much  back  of  them,  but  are  really 
as  silly  as  the  rest  of  ns." 

"  You  are  severe,"  Harry  said.     "  It's  the  way  with  girls  !  " 

"  I'm  not  severe.  Clara  loves  admiration,  and  Mr.  Saxton  got 
tired  of  giving  so  much  of  it.  He  said  she  must  choose  between 
him  and  all  Yale  College.  She  replied  that  if  it  came  to  a  choice 
between  an  undergrad  and  an  alumnus,  she  preferred  the  student, 
as  at  least  he  had  some  possibilities.  They  say  that  Will  Saxton, 
who  was  here  at  the  german,  and  expected  to  be  here  for  the  ball, 


370  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

\ 

packed  his  bag  and  left  for  New  York.  Clara  is  so  high-spirited, 
you  know,  she  boldly  announced  to  everyone  forthwith  that  the 
engagement  was  broken.  She  must  have  hated  to  send  back  that 
lovely  diamond  ring,  though." 

There  was  a  distinct  tone  of  spite  in  what  Miss  Hargreaves  said. 
How  he  hated  a  spiteful  woman  ! 

At  last  the  waltz  was  over,  and  he  hastened  across  the  wide  ball 
room  floor  to  where  Clara  was  standing  surrounded  by  a  number 
of  seniors.  The  great  swells,  Bellamy  Storrs  and  Holland,  were 
vying  in  "  airy  persiflage  and  repartee  "  over  her  dance-card  and 
begging  for  half  dances.  The  great  Bob  Clark  had  just  been  fav 
ored.  Guthrie,  one  of  the  big  men  of  the  senior  year,  physically  and 
mentally,  stood  near  her.  playing  with  his  Lit.  triangle,  and  occa 
sionally  begging  her  to  remember  him  in  the  "crush."  She  was 
in  her  element  with  these  jolly,  amusing  young  fellows — the 
jeunesse  doree  of  their  time  at  college.  Her  eyes  sparkled — she 
triumphed — she  felt  the  joy,  too,  of  drawing  the  lorgnettes  in  the 
gallery  down  on  her. 

"  Ah,  here  comes  Umpty-four,"she  laughed,  as  Harry  approached. 
"  And  Umpty-four " 

"  Takes  the  cake  !  "  laughed  Clark. 

"Oh,  it's  the  junioi's' privilege,  I  suppose,"  said  Storrs.  "We 
seniors  are  getting  to  be  too  old.  Youth  and  hope  must  win  to 
night.  Take  her,  Mr.  Chestleton.  She's  yours— because  I  see 
you've  got  your  name  down  for  this  dance." 

They  danced  the  Redowa — then  stopped — then  walked  slowly 
— then  they  sought  an  obscure  corner  beneath  the  gallery,  where 
they  sat  earnestly  conversing. 

Holland  :  "  Gad  !  a  man  might  go  farther  and  fare  worse.  Lots 
of  style,  Bellamy  ;  she's  to  be  at  Newport  this  summer.  De  Koven 
says  she'll  be  a  belle.  I  think  I'll  look  her  up." 

Storrs  :  "  By  all  odds  the  prettiest  woman  here."  It  was  the 
thing  to  use  "  woman  "  for  "girl  "  in  the  swell  set.  "  She's  in  great 
shape  to-night ;  but  there's  a  Miss  Hargreaves,  of  New  York,  here 
I  like  quite  as  well." 

Holland  :  "  Not  in  it  !  " 


THE  JUNIOR   PROMENADE.  371 

Storrs  :  "  Who's  that  woman  Caswell  of  your  class  has  got  on 
his  arm  ?  " 

Holland  :  "  That's  a  Miss  Mead." 

Storrs  :  "I  rather  like  her  cut— simplicity  is  a  capital  thing  in  a 
woman.  She  has  a  charming  color,  too.  I  wonder  if  that  young 
rascal  isn't  making  love  to  her  !  " 

Holland  :  "  Cassy,  they  say,  is  confining  himself  to  actresses 
nowadays.  Did  you  hear?  He  followed  the  Lydia  Thompson 
troupe  to  Boston,  and  acted  for  a  week  there  as  one  of  the  tin 
soldiers." 

Storrs  :  "  He's  a  great  chap  !  "  (Mental  note  :  He's  not  the 
right  sort,  quite,  for  senior  year.  He's  too  wild,  too  bohemian.) 

Result  :  In  the  ensuing  elections  Caswell  does  not  go,  as  lie  ex 
pected,  to  a  certain  senior  society. 

So  the  ball  waxed  and  waned.  The  supper  was  grand,  the 
champagne  frappe  to  a  nicety.  Everything  was  just  perfect.  The 
chaperons  felt  better  after  supper,  and  the  music  seemed  livelier 
and  jollier.  Kitty  danced  every  dance,  and  would  have  gone  on 
dancing  to  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  at  the  end,  as  several  jolly  girls 
did.  But  at  last  the  Junior  Prom  was  over.  Harry  saw  Clara 
Hastings  into  her  carriage  beside  that  grim  old  maid,  her  Aunt 
Mulford,  as  the  sun  was  beginning  to  illumine  the  heavens  for 
another  day.  What  had  happened  between  them  ?  He  could 
hardly  tell.  He  let  himself  into  his  room  in  Durfee,  and  threw 
himself  heavily,  without  undressing,  on  his  bed.  He  couldn't  sleep. 
His  head  was  in  a  whirl. 

What  had  happened  ?  Simply  this  :  in  a  dark  passage-way,  where 
no  one  saw  them,  she  had  thrown  herself  in  his  arms — the  glorious 
young  beauty  that  she  was — and  kissed  him  passionately,  and 
breathed  the  hot  words  in  his  ear,  which  rang  there  forever,  "  Noic, 
do  you  think  that  I  care  for  him  ?  Will  Saxton  is  nothing  to 
me,  Harry — I  did  not  know  my  own  heart.  I  love  you — I  have 
always  loved  you.  Why  do  you  make  me  go  down  on  my  knees 
to  you  ?  " 

He  kissed  her — blushing  scarlet.  "My — darling! — darling! 
he  whispered  ;  "  is  it  true  ?  Do  you  really  love  me  ?  " 


372 


COLLEGE  DA  VS. 


Those  moments  of  first,  sweet  love — when  your  girl  yields  at 
last  !  They  are  God-given,  holy,  pure,-  ecstatic  moments,  and  they 
should  be  held  as  sacred  and  as  secret  as  the  confessional  of  the 
Church.  Neither  could  speak  ;  they  knew  they  must  separate  and 


HARRY  SAW   CLARA  HASTINGS  INTO   HER   CARRIAGE. 


go  back  to  the  ballroom.  They  were  too  full  of  emotion.  Beside, 
this  was  not  a  place  to  linger.  Already  a  man  was  looking  for 
Clara  for  a  waltz.  Harry  must  hunt  up  Miss  Walker.  Yet  they 
stood  there,  her  cheek  against  his,  so  happy  !  while  the  moments 


THE  JUNIOR   PROMENADE.  373 

fled,  and  the  crashing  music — yes,  it  was  "  Morgen  blatter,"  which 
Jack  was  always  whistling  when  he  wanted  particularly  to  study. 
She  was  his!  and  over  them  the  large  picture  of  St.  Elihu — the 
same  that  gazes  on  us  still  from  the  cover  of  the  Lit. — seemed  to 
beam  with  joy  and  congratulations  as  they  re-entered  the  great 
ballroom  arm  in  arm — "  the  handsomest  pair,"  ;is  Mrs.  Professor 
Shepard  observed  to  Miss  Mulford,  "  on  the  entire  floor  !  " 

Alas  !  how  soon  this  perfect  bliss  of  first  love  was  to  change  for 
the  distressing  period — "  Have  we  not  both  made  a  mistake  ?  " 
which  so  often  intervenes  and  spoils  all  in  college  love  affairs. 
Perhaps  it  all  began  by  Clara's  insisting  that  night  that  their  en 
gagement,  if  such  it  was,  should  be  held  a  "mortal  secret" 

Days  and  weeks  passed,  and  the  secret  engagement  waned.  A 
quarrel  estranged  them.  Both  were  high-spirited — easily  angered. 
College  engagements  are  flimsy  affairs.  Clara's  mother  urged  her 
to  reserve  herself  for  "higher  things" — "perhaps,"  she  urged, 
"a  titled  Englishman,  as  your  sister  in  London  has  captured." 
Many  influences  were  secretly  brought  to  bear  on  Clara.  The 
engagement  was  brought  to  an  end  for  the  time  being. 

O       ~  O 

Yet  both  surely  knew  that  some  day  it  would  be  renewed,  and 
that  the  fires  of  love  were  only  smoldering  in  their  breasts. 

Harry  went  out  a  little  more  than  he  had  done,  and  Jack  per 
suaded  him  without  much  trouble  to  take  in  Miss  Walker's  dance, 
the  latter  end  of  the  term. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

MISS   WALKER   GIVES   A   DANCE. 

T  turned  out  that  Miss  Walker's  dance  was  an  exclusive 
one — only  the  particular  "  college  set "  being  invited. 
In  this  set  were  chiefly  the  highly  educated  daughters 
of  professors,  who  mostly  preferred  to  sit  out  the  round 
dances,  and  a  sprinkling  of  New  Haven  girls  who  for 
some  reason  were  invited  because  of  their  cleverness 
and  similarity  to  the  professors'  daughters  in  wearing  spectacles. 

Professor  Walker's  house  was  a  large  roomy  structure  on  Grove 
Street  ;  the  first  floor  was  thrown  open,  and  a  skilled  musician  was 
thumping  the  grand  piano  as  they  entered.  It  was  supposed  to  be 
a  jovial  galop,  but  no  one  was  dancing  although  the  rooms  were 
full.  They  were  obliged  on  entering  to  pass  their  overcoats  through 
the  hall  and  upstairs  to  the  gentlemen's  dressing  room,  and  then  to 
descend  again,  as  if  it  was  really  their  first  appearance. 

Several  young  ladies  whom  they  knew  cut  them  dead  as  they 
passed  through  upstairs,  who,  to  their  surprise,  on  their  again 
descending,  received  them  with  radiant  smiles. 

There  were  many  charming  girls  in  spectacles — none  decollete 
of  course,  and  none  wearing  very  startling  gowns.  Jack,  who 
was  getting  to  be  quite  a  "  society  "  man,  went  up  and  spoke  to 
many  of  his  acquaintances.  Everyone  seemed  to  know  the  hand 
some  fellow. 

Miss  Walker  came  out  on  the  arm  of  a  tall  senior  also  in  spec 
tacles,  flew  at  Jack,  seized  upon  him,  and  dragged  him  away  to  be 
presented  to  "  a  most  charming,  lovely  creature — her  dearest 
friend  "—a  dumpy,  fat,  jolly  old  spinster,  Miss  Crimsy. 

Poor  Jack  bowed  and  said  he  was  "so  very  happy."  Miss 
Crimsy  was  supposed  to  be  very  bright  and  clever.  She  had 

374 


MISS    WALKER    GIVES  A    DANCE.  375 

written  a  book  of  poems.  She  would  doubtless  have  a  career— but 
all  tliis  went  for  naught  with  the  handsome  devil-may-care  young 
junior.  Her  wit  was  lost  on  him.  "  You  have  the  air  of  wanting 
to  escape,"  she  laughed.  "  Fly  then  !  I  don't  find  under-class  men 
particularly  amusing,  if  caged  ;  they  are  like  flowers " 

"You  cut  them,  I  suppose,  generally?     Please  don't  cut  me." 

"  Oh,  I  prefer  them  wild."     She  gave  him  a  meaning  glance. 

"  That  is  my  reputation — undeserved,"  he  laughed. 

"  Yes  ;  wild  and  unstudied?  " 

"I  shan't  try  for  the  valedictory,  yet  I  study  hard  enough  too — 
and  as  I  am  always  in  training  I'm  not  very  wild.  I  see  I  shan't 
suit  you,  Miss  Crimsy — not  the  kind  of  flower — so  good- 
evening  !  " 

"No,  for  I'm  a  great  wall-flower  myself,"  she  laughed.  At 
least  she  was  good-natured.  "But  I've  heard  Miss  Walker  speak 
of  you  so  often.  She  likes  you.  When  they  rusticated  you,  Mr. 
Rives—you  haven't  any  idea  how  she  insisted  that  you  had  a  good 
true  heart." 

"  She  ought  to  know — she's  had  it  long  enough  for  examina 
tion  !  "  he  laughed. 

Miss  Crimsy  laughed,  too,  loudly.  "  She  has  dissected  it  then — 
and  she  finds  you  true  blue  !  It  must  be  a  satisfaction  to  you. 
It's  like  going  to  an  insurance  company  and  finding  nothing's  the 
matter  with  you  and  you're  a  good  risk.  If  Sarah  Walker  takes 
up  a  student — there  must  be  something  to  him." 

His  eyes  wandered  off  to  the  three  homely,  scrawny  daughters 
of  Professor  Winkelmann,  a  German  instructor,  as  he  answered, 
"  I  don't  flatter  myself  that,  like  Elijah,  I've  been  taken  up.  I 
admire  Miss  Walker  exceedingly.  I  feel  that  she's  been  like  a 
good  elder — ahern — a  sister  to  me.  To  know  her,  as  one  may  say, 
is  not  only  a  liberal  education  but  a  post-graduate  course.  Last 
week  we  had  a  moonlight  sail  of  ten  of  us  which  she  organized — 

O 

she  entertained  us  by  reciting  four  cantos  of  'Childe  Harold.' 
Miss  Crimsy,"  his  fine  eyes  were  twinkling  in  merriment,  "  I'm 
sure  she's  full  of  poetry  !  " 

Again  Miss  Crimsy  laughed  very  loudly,  and  protested  that  he 


376  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

was  a  very  wicked  person  to  talk  so  about  her  dearest,  oldest 
friend! 

His  eyes  wandered  again.  This  time  he  saw  Miss  Sanger,  in 
eyeglasses,  a  pretty  girl  with  high"  domelike  forehead,  who  pre 
ferred  to  talk  of  the  modern  scientific  leaning  of  religion,  but  who 
danced  very  well.  He  bowed  to  Miss  Crimsy  and  asked  Miss 
Sanger  to  dance.  "  I've  had  a  horrible  day,"  she  exclaimed  over 
his  shoulder  as  they  whirled  about.  "  I've  been  reading  Amiel's 
'Journal' — it's  undermined  me." 

"  The  what  newspaper?" 

"  Amiel's  '  Journal.'  " 

"Oh!  I  didn't  know  Amiel  had  let  anyone  read  it,  let  alone 
publishing  it." 

"You  are  flippant,  Mr.  Rives,  as  usual,"  said  Miss  Sanger,  and 
they  stopped  dancing  after  a  moment  and  sat  on  a  sofa  and  watched 
the  dancing. 

Harry  had  possessed  himself  of  a  girl  who  towered  high  above 
him  like  a  graceful  elm.  She  was  pretty,  however,  and  had  the 
quaintest,  queerest  little  old-fashioned  ringlets.  She  was  the 
youngest  daughter  of  ex-President  Waring,  who  had  a  family  of 
ten  girls,  who,  like  him,  overtopped  their  compeers  round.  Harry 
liked  her  because  she  knew  all  about  baseball ! 

"  Tell  me,  Mr.  Chestleton,  doesn't  it  frighten  you  to  death  to 
know  that  all  depends  on  the  way  you  throw  in  the  ball?  " 

"  No.     I  get  used  to  it,"  said  Harry  drearily. 

"Suppose  you  should  miss  the  catcher  altogether?" 

"  That  would  be  a  wild  pitch,  an  error." 

"Wouldn't  it  be  dreadful!" 

"It  sometimes  happens,  of  course." 

"And  oh!  suppose  you  forgot  when  you  struck  the  ball,  and  ran 
as  hard  as  you  could  to  third  base  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  out  at  first,  and  you  wouldn't  do  it,"  he  laughed, 
"unless  you  went  crazy." 

"But  in  the  excitement?  I  was  reading  in  the  '  Life  of  Hume  ' 
the  other  day —no,  it  was  in  the  'Life  of  Kant'— that  one  day  his 
house  got  on  fire  and  he  threw  open  a  window  and  carefully  let 


MISS    WALKER    GIVES  A    DANCE.  377 

down  the  tongs  with  a  rope.  And  in  baseball  I  .should  think  that 
th"  strongest  mental  endowment  would  at  times  be  inadequate?" 

"  Oh,  we  sometimes  get  rattled,  but  we  soon  pull  ourselves  to 
gether,"  lie  laughed. 

"And  why  can't  you  run  to  first  base  when  you  make  a  foul?" 

"Because  it's  against  the  rules." 

"  Is  it  considered  unfair  to  foul  ?  " 

"  No,  but— 

"  I  think  it  ought  to  count,  don't  you  ?  It's  a  hit." 

"  No."     He  couldn't  explain  it  to  her  exactly.     He  felt  hopeless. 

"I'm  so  interested,  although  father  says  it's  not  the  best  thing 
for  girls  to  be  going  to  ball  games.  I  want  to  see  the  next  game 
with  Harvard.  I  feel  certain  we  are  going  to  win  if  you  pitch." 

She  took  off  her  eyeglasses  and  wiped  them  gently,  and  a  junior 
came  up,  and  asked  her  to  dance.  Harry  stood  alone  for  a  few 
moments,  hoping  the  next  girl  wouldn't  talk  baseball  to  him — a 
subject,  somehow,  with  girls,  he  felt  he  knew  nothing  about.  He 
amused  himself  for  a  little  while  looking  vaguely  around  and 

O  ~  •/ 

observing  certain  grave  and  reverend  seniors,  ablaze  with  golden 
senior  society  badges,  cavorting  about  in  as  lively  and  youthful 
a  manner  as  if  the}'  had  been  merely  juniors  themselves. 
There  was  Brown,  chairman  of  the  Lit.  board  ;  what  awful  secrets 
were  concealed  in  his  brainy  looking  head  !  He  knew  well  enough 
the  Umpty-four  juniors  who  were  going  to  Spade  and  Grave — and 
in  a  few  weeks  more  the  whole  college  would  know  it.  There  was 
Tom  Bixby,  who  condescended  to  nod  to  him  now.  There  was 
Paton,  lauo-hinor  and  chatting  with  Miss  Winkelmann  like  an 

'  O  ~  CJ 

uncouth  freshman.  Yet  he  certainly  seemed  older,  and  more 
awful  to  him  than  did  Professor  Walker  himself,  who  came  in  and 
stood  by  his  good  wife  and  interesting  daughter  for  a  little  while. 
Professor  Walker  came  in,  looking  upon  the  innocent  amusement 
of  the  young  people  with  a  wise  shake  of  his  Ptolemy-like  head. 
Harry  was  struck  then,  more  than  ever,  as  he  saw  the  professor 
in  a  formal  dress  suit,  by  his  resemblance  to  an  Egyptian  sculp 
ture — his  hair  carried  up  over  his  forehead  and  down  behind  his 
ears  in  true  old  Nilean  style.  He  went  over  and  talked  with  him. 


378  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

His  hand  was  icy  cold  as  he  shook  his  feebly.  He  seemed  to  be 
looking  on  at  the  dancing  and  the  entire  ensemble  as  if  it  were 
a  hopeless,  foolish  performance.  Around  the  wide  hallway  and  in 
the  large  drawing  room  were  many  stiff  portraits  of  his  ancestors — 
an  old  well  to  do  New  Haven  mercantile  race.  Fine  old  Puritans 
they  were,  with  their  solemn  heavy  faces,  thin  nostrils,  deep,  sad, 
puritanic  eyes  and  starched  ruffs. 

Mrs.  Walker  was  a  short,  brisk,  chubby  woman  with  pretty  gray 
hair.  If  her  husband  looked  bored,  she  was  on  the  contrary  all 
liveliness. 

The  professor  said,  as  if  coming  out  of  a  reverie,  "About  these 
curves  now,  in  which  you  succeed  in  turning  and  twisting  a  baseball; 
lias  anyone  succeeded  in  calculating  a  formula  for  them — the  rela 
tion  of  the  resistance  of  the  air,  and  the  spinning  quality  which  you 
give  with  the  hand?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Harry,  desiring  to  make  himself  agreeable.  "  It 
would  be  a  good  thing  if  someone  would." 

"A  simple  question  in  physics.  Let  us  see  if  we  cannot  calculate 
it  now  in  our  heads.  Consider  the  force  you  drive  the  ball  as'l. 
We  will  then  call  the  resistance  of  the  air  n." 

But  Harry  was  hardly  in  the  mood,  with  the  piano  thumping  in 
his  ears,  and  in  the  confusion  of  the  "dancers  dancing  in  tune,"  to 
pay  any  close  attention. 

"  Do  you  follow  me  ?  "  asked  the  professor.  "  One  nth  of  x  will 
equal  the  cosine  of  a  circle  whose  diameter " 

"  Certainly,  yes,"  said  Harry,  losing  the  rest  of  what  the  pro 
fessor  was  saying  in  the  rush  past  him  of  two  couples  in  the  waltz. 

"And  applying  the  rule  of  physics,  bodies  move  inversely  as  the 
square  of  their  distance " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Harry,  wishing  he  was  well  out  of  it. 

"  We  equally  must  remember  one-nth  of  x  into  the  square  root  of 
the " 

"Mr.  Chestleton,  you're  not  dancing  !  come  with  me  at  once  !  " 
cried  Mrs.  Walker  as  he  gave  her  his  arm,  and  she  rescued  him.  The 
professor  didn't  seem  to  notice  his  departure,  but  when  he  went 
off  was  evidently  still  calculating  his  problem  in  great  shape,  as  he 


MISS    WALKER   GIVES  A    DANCE.  379 

wore  a  smile  on  his  lips.  His  hostess  presented  him  to  a  nice 
looking  girl,  a  Miss  Brown,  who,  rather  singularly,  was  without 
spectacles.  Harry  danced  with  her  until  she  began  to  turn  pale, 
gasp,  and  breathe  with  some  difficulty  as  if  quite  pumped,  and  he 
took  her  to  a  seat. 

"I've  been  working  very  hard  lately,"  she  said,  "and  I'm  tired 
out.  I'm  attending  the  Art  School  this  year,  and  we  are  all  painting 
away  for  dear  life  for  the  prize  to  be  awarded  in  June.  But  it's 
the  funniest  thing,  you  know,  the  only  paintings  we  have  to  speak 
of  in  the  Art  Building  are  the  Trumbull  gallery  and  the  Jarves 
collection.  Therefore  all  our  '  styles'  are  founded  on  Trumbull  or 
on  Cirnabue.  I  prefer  Cirnabue,  and  my  figure  of  '  A  Woman  Wash 
ing,'  is  the  scrawniest,  sourest  looking  dyspeptic  you  ever  saw. 
Have  you  seen  the  Jarves  collection  ?  Have  you  seen  Giotto's 
'  Head?'  Oh,  it  is  wonderful  !  But  it's  making  most  of  us  Pre- 
Raphaelites.  I  wish  they  did  have  some  more  modern  paintings. 
A  woman  always  imitates  in  art,  arid  it's  a  pity  we  have  to  be  so 
Trumbully  florid,  or  so  ascetically  Jarvesian  ;  is  it  not  so  ?" 

"  It's  a  shame  !  "  he  laughed.  The  girl  was  going  to  be  good 
fun,  he  thought.  She  reminded  him  of  Daisy  Stevenson.  "  You 
ought  to  be  allowed  to  visit  some  of  the  saloons  in  New  York." 

"  Salons,  I  suppose  ?  "    She  gave  him  a  quick  glance. 

"No,  saloons;  art  galleries— the  depositaries  of  modern  art  in 
the  Metrolopus  !  "  and  they  both  laughed. 

"  Can  you  keep  a  secret  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  What  is  the  secret  ?  " 

"  The  article  on  '  Media3valism  in  Modern  Art '  in  the  April  Lit. 
is  by  me,  and  it's  a  joke.  It's  signed  '  S.'  Read  it,  and  see  if  it 
isn't  stupid,  solemn,  deep,  arid  incomprehensible  like  every  other 
Lit.  article  you  ever  read." 

Harry  laughed.  "  I  think  the  Lit.  is  very  fine,"  he  said  ;  "  a 
friend  of  mine,  Nevers,  writes  for  it." 

"  Don't  tell  him  or  anyone.  My  brother  would  murder  me  ! 
But  you  see  the  Courant  and  Record  will  speak  of  my  article  in 
highest  praise.  They  won't  understand  it,  nor  will  anyone  else. 
Women  at  least  know  how  to  imitate,  and  I've  imitated  the  regular 


380  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

standard  Lit.  article  in  fine  shape.  It's  all  a  burlesque,  though — a 
joke  on  my  brother  and  all  the  Lit.  board.  I  did  it  for  fun,  but  it's 
an  awful  secret.  I  don't  know  why  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Chestleton, 
except  I  will  say,  you  have  the  most  sincere,  truthful  looking  eyes 
I  ever  saw." 

"  Do  you  ever  use  what  is  commonly  known  as  a  mirror  ?  "  he 
asked.  She  took  her  seat  in  an  antique  chair  and  he  stood  leaning 
over  her.  "  By  Jove  !  this  Art  School  girl  is  great  fun  !  "  he 
thought. 

"  No— have  I  a  black  india  ink  smudge  on  ray  nose?"  she  asked 
innocently.  "  I  generally  do  have.  But  you  will  keep  my 
secret  ? " 

"  Inviolate " 

"  Sub  rosa  will  do!"  She  looked  up,  punning.  She  was  fair, 
and  her  light  hair  was  distinctly  charming,  this  Miss  Brown  ! 

"  It's  a  good  joke — but  it  will  leak  out,  won't  it  ?  and  when  it 
does  !  Oh,  Miss  Brown,  you  will  then  need  a  champion — then  my 
strong  right  arm  will  be  needed " 

"Yes,  but  your  strong  right  arm  is  needed  to  pitch,  and  to  beat 
Harvard." 

"  But  if  Chi  Delta  Theta*  dares  to  haze  you  for  what  you  have 
done  !  " 

"  Oh,  would  they  ?  "     She  looked  up  at  him  fearfully. 

"  No  telling.  It's  a  secret  organization  armed  with  terrible 
powers." 

"Oh,  you  frighten  me  to  death  !  And  my  nerves  are  all  shat 
tered  anyway,  working  for  that  horrid  prize  in  the  Art  School." 

"  Well,  supper  is  announced.  Take  my  arm  and  we'll  eat  a 
salad  or  ice,  or  something  ;  and  perhaps  your  nerves  will  recover. 
But  to  tell  the  truth  I  wouldn't  be  in  your  b — boots — slippers,  for 
ducats.  Chi  Delta  Theta— three  Greek  letters  meaning  '  Death  to 
Traitors'1 —  has  a  terribly  bad  reputation  around  college." 

"  But  my  brother — he  would  die,  if  necessary,  for  me  ?  " 

"  Not  if  he's  like  most  brothers." 

"  I  don't  care.  My  brother  is  so  proud  of  being  on  the  Lit.  board 
*  The  society  which  edits  and  publishes  the  Yale  Literary  Magazine. 


MISS    WALKER    GIVES  A    DAXCE.  381 

that  I  wanted  to  take  him  down  ;  and  I'm  glad  I  did  it;  I  don't 
care  what  happens.  They  can  eat  me  up  if  they  like,  with  their 
Chi  Delta  Theta— and  the  article  will  show  the  powers  that  be 
that  art  students  ought  to  be  fed  on  stronger  ait  food  than  Jarves 
collections  *  or  Jonathan  Trumbull  !  " 

They  went  out  to  supper,  and  she  asked  if  he  was  fond  of  riding, 
and  that  if  so,  she  might  possibly  give  him  an  invitation  for  the 
day  following. 

Harry  dove  into  the  crowd  for  a  plate  of  ice  cream,  and  when  he 
came  back,  in  the  course  of  time  received  his  invitation  in  due 
form.  His  extravagant  praises  of  riding  as  a  form  of  exercise  did 
not  mislead  the  clever  girl.  She  frankly  told  him  she  saw  through 
him,  and  she  felt  highly  flattered  that  he  should  want  to  go  on 
her  riding  party.  "  However,  we  shall  want  another  girl,"  she 
mused.  "Miss  Muli'ord's  niece  is  in  town  over  Sunday.  Do 
you  know  her — Miss  Hastings  ?  she's  a  stunning  beauty.  I'll  ask 
her." 

"  Yes,  I  know  her,"  said  Harry,  reddening.  "  I've  known  her  a 
long  time." 

"A  victim?"  asked  the  girl,  amused.  "You  look  so  very 
demure  ! " 

"  I've  known  her  two  years." 

"  Oh,  this  is  delightful  !  I  want  to  show  her  some  attention  be 
cause  her  aunt  has  been  so  kind  to  me  ever  since  I've  been  in  New 
Haven.  I've  been  up  there  with  1113-  brother  a  great  deal  in  the  old 
house  on  Hillhouse  Avenue;  but  that's  the  only  place  I  have  been 
to.  I  have  not  gone  out  at  all.  I  have  taken  Lord  Eldon's  advice 
to  those  studying  law — fed  like  an  insect  and  worked  like  an  ox; 
and  now  my  doctor  says  I  must  '  let  up  '  a  little,  so  I've  taken  to 
riding.  My  aunt  Miss  Donald  has  asked  me  to  bring  out  my 
friends  once  a  week  and  take  tea  or  lunch,  and  to-morrow  it  shall 
be  only  Umpty-four  and  one  other.  Miss  Walker  says  it's  the 

*  Since  the  time  of  this  story  a  very  fine  collection  of  modern  paintings  lias 
been  added  to  the  art  collections  at  Yale,  and  the  value  of  the  Jarves  collection, 
contrary  to  Miss  Brown,  the  flippant  art  student,  has  only  grown  the  more 
apparent. 


382  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

nicest  class  in— I  don't  know  how  many  years  !  And  oh,  pray  ! 
keep  my  secret,  won't  you,  about  the  Lit.?  " 

"  Yes  !  I  swear  it  !  " 

"  Then  au  revoir  till  to-morrow.  Mr.  Rives  will  explain  where 
and  when." 

She  gave  him  a  sweet  smile  and  left  the  room.  Instantly,  when 
she  left,  the  whole  affair  became  a  deadly  bore  to  him  again.  There 
was  Jack  dancing  away,  and  Nevers  sitting  on  the  stairs  with  a 
girl  in  spectacles,  and  he  wanted  to  go  home.  After  a  few  minutes 
the  music  stopped,  and  Jack  had  to  stop.  He  went  up  to  him  with 
a  gloomy  look. 

"  I'm  going,"  he  said.  "  Meet  me  at  Mory's;  I  want  a  rarebit  and 
something  cheering." 

"  No,  Harry,"  said  Jack.  "  Wait  a  second  and  I'll  get  Nevers, 
and  we'll  go  along  with  you." 

Then  the  music  struck  up  again,  and  there  was  the  faithless  Jack 
prancing  around  the  room  again  with  another  girl.  Harry  went 
and  collared  little  Nevers  and  dragged  him  away  with  him.  An 
hour  later,  as  they  sat  chinning  in  the  Quiet  House,  over  their 
third  mug  of  Burton,  Jack,  singing  a  jolly  air,  turned  up.  It  was 
one  o'clock  then,  in  the  morning.  So  ended  the  dance  in  the  "  col 
lege  set." 

"It  was  hardly  a,  joyous  affair,  was  it  !  "  laughed  Jack.  "  Per 
haps  I  had  better  say  spectacle  !  " 


CHAPTER   XL. 

THE    RIDING    PARTY. 

MISS  FANNY  BROWN'S  horse  was  awaiting  her,  as  was  Miss 
Walker's,  in  charge  of  a  groom.  The  art  student  looked  a 
little  pale  and  weary,  and  as  if  a  little  country  air  and  brisk  riding 
would  do  her  good.  When  the  "  men  "  came  up  to  the  stoop  of 
the  house  where  they  were  sitting,  she  became  pert  and  chipper 
enough.  Harry  thought  she  was  very  "  interesting."  She  was 
not  pretty,  but  she  had  a  great  deal  of  expression  and  feeling,  and 
a  sense  of  humor,  rare  enough  in  girls,  he  found.  While  they  were 
waiting,  her  brother,  Brown,  of  Umpty-three,  came  up,  holding 
one  of  the  new  Lits.,  just  out,  in  his  hand.  He  was  introduced, 
and  bowed  with  a  lofty  condescending  air  to  the  juniors. 

"  Oh,  the  Lit.!  Do  let  me  see  it  !"  cried  Miss  Brown,  making 
a  grab  for  it  out  of  her  brother's  hand.  He  handed  it  to  her 
gravely.  Before  the  juniors  he  was  on  his  good  behavior. 

"  Oh,  how  interesting  !  'Medievalism  in  Modern  Art  ! '  I  must 
read  that,  and  get  some  ideas,"  she  cried,  with  a  side  glance  at 
Harry.  "  Who  wrote  it,  Will  ?  " 

Brown  of  Umpty-three  shook  his  head  solemnly.  "We  must 
not  reveal  the  grim  secrets  of  Chi  Delta  Theta  ! "  he  laughed 
pleasantly. 

"It's  very  profound — starts  off  with  Adam — as  all  good  college 
essays  do.  Hum — hum— tell  me,  Will,  did  a  mere  student  really 
write  this?" 

"  We  consider  it  one  of  the  greatest  essays  the  Lit.  ever  pub 
lished.  By  the  way,  I  don't  mind  saying  that  the  author's  name 
is  unknown,  but  we  think  we  know  pretty  well  it  is  David  Alum 
of  Umpty-four,  a  very  high  stand  man." 

"Yes,  he  lives  with  his  aunt,  who  is  going  through  college  to 
herself  in  private,"  said  Jack.  "  A  queer  couple  as  I  ever  saw." 


384  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"  She's  a  rustler  herself,  a  towering  intellect,  yet  a  good  fellow," 
said  Nevers. 

"  My  father  says  she  is  a  wonderful  mathematician,"  said  Miss 
Walker,  rising. 

Someone  was  galloping  up  the  street,  followed  by  a  groom. 
Harry  went  with  her  out  to  the  gate,  and  all  followed. 

"  Doesn't  she  look  stunning  !  "  exclaimed  Fanny  Brown,  as  Miss 
Hastings,  on  a  handsome  chestnut,  brought  her  lively  steed  to  a 
standstill,  bowing  right  and  left  to  her  friends.  Harry  hurried  out 
and  grasped  her  gloved  hand. 

"  I  was  afraid  some  accident  had  happened,  and  you  weren't  com 
ing  ! "  he  said,  as  their  glances  met. 

"  Indeed  I  wouldn't  miss  going  to  a  tea  at  Sedgewood  Farm  for 
a  good  deal  !  "  she  replied. 

It  was  proposed  to  ride  out  Hillhouse  Avenue,  then  by  way  of 
Whitneyville  around  in  a  detour  to  Sedgewood  Farm  at  five  o'clock. 
Brown  helped  his  sister  to  mount,  and  Jack  mounted  Miss  Walker. 
Their  horses  were  fresh  and  all  pretty  good.  The  day  was 
cloudless,  and  not  too  warm.  They  turned  into  the  beautiful  con 
crete  of  Hillliouse  Avenue  at  a  brisk  trot. 

Though  not  great  in  extent,  what  more  beautiful  avenue  of 
pleasant  American  homes  exists  than  this  famous  little  street? 
The  slope  up  to  the  stately  old  Hillhouse  mansion  on  the  hill,  the 
double  row  of  magnificent  elms,  the  aristocratic  exclusiveness 
of  the  gateway  at  the  entrance,  the  perfectly  kept  lawns,  everything 
tended  to  remind  them  of  some  old  cathedral  town  in  England. 

"  I  always  feel  as  if  I  was  in  the  presence  of  royalty  in  Hillhouse 
Avenue,"  remarked  Fanny  Brown,  in  a  hushed  voice.  "  Every 
thing — including  the  elms — is  so  high  and  mighty." 

"This  is  your  aunt's  house,  it  looks  like  a  Grecian  temple," 
she  said  to  Clara  Hastings,  who  was  riding  at  her  side.  The  house 
was  a  stately,  solemn  mansion  with  high  white  pillars  in  front  of  it- 
Miss  Mulford  was  at  a  window  and  Clara  bowed  affectionately  to 
her  as  they  passed. 

"My  aunt  has  five  cats,"  said  Clara.  "Do  you  like  cats,  Mr. 
Chestleton  ?  Come  up  to-morrow  and  play  with  the  cats  ! " 


THE   RIDING  PARTY.  385 

He  felt,  that,  with  the  lovely  girl  at  his  side,  he  never  could 
resume  relations  exactly  where  he  left  off.  To-day  she  was  rather 
distant  and  cool  to  him.  He  became  silent  and  depressed  in  the 
thought  that,  after  all,  she  did  not  care  for  him,  and  would  never 
really  love  him,  in  spite  of  all  her  kisses  and  all  she  had  said. 

All  that  glorious  afternoon,  as  they  rode — and  Fanny  Brown  set 
them  a  hot  pace — Clara  seemed  to  keep  at  a  distance  from  him. 
She  kept  Nevers  by  her  constantly.  "  Was  she  jealous?"  he  asked 
himself.  "  What  curious  creatures  these  girls  are  !  " 

At  an  old-fashioned  little  inn  at  Whitneyville,  Jack  prescribed 
milk  punches,  which  the  girls  drank  without  dismounting.  Already 
a  healthy  glow  was  making  itself  seen  on  Miss  Brown's  face.  She 
was  of  a  stylish  figure,  jolly,  a  "companionable"  girl  ;  and  Harry 
found  himself  drinking  his  punch  at  her  stirrup,  instead  of  Clara's. 

"I  am  in  fear  and  trembling  over  that  Lit.  article,"  she  said. 
"  If  you  ever  tell  !  " 

"  I  shall  be  silent  as  the  grave.  I  haven't  been  iu  secret  Delta 
Kap,  and  in  mysterious  Delta  Beta  Xi  for  nothing.  I  know  how 
to  keep  a  secret  !  " 

"  Well,  secret  societies  have  one  good  effect  then." 

"  I've  heard  my  uncle  say — he  was  a  Yale  man — that  they  were 
the  one  institution  left  to  man  that  woman  could  not  pry  into." 

"  Woman  pry  into  those  silly  little  college  societies?  as  if  any 
one  of  us  cared  to  know  what  goes  on  in  those  places  ! 

She  gave  a  quick  toss  of  her  head. 

"Ah,  yes,  you  shall  never,  never  know — never!"  he  said  teas- 
ingly. 

"There  is  one  thing  I  see— you  are  trying  to  be  provoking." 

"  I  ?  how  so  ?  " 

Clara  Hastings  overheard  the  remark. 

"How  is  he  trying  to  be  provoking?"  she  asked,  coming  near 
them,  glass  in  hand.  He  thought  she  never  looked  so  beautiful. 

Miss  Brown  gave  her  a  glance  as  much  as  to  say,  "This  is  my 
own  little  funeral,  don't  you  interfere  ! 

"I  was  saying,  that  you  poor  girls  could  never,  never  know  what 
goes  on  in  our  secret  societies." 


386  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

"We  know  that  if  everything  was  as  it  should  be,  you  students 
would  not  be  ashamed  to  let  everyone  know  what  you  did  inside  of 
them." 

This  was  a  staggerer ;  Harry  could  not  retort  as  he  would 
have  done  to  the  same  remark  coming  from  Miss  Brown.  He 
meekly  swallowed  the  last  of  his  milk  punch  in  silence. 

"  It's  the  pin,  the  chief  joy  of  secret  societies,  I  believe,"  said 
Fanny  astutely.  "  How  they  love  to  disport  themselves  covered 
over  as  to  their  waistcoats  with  badges  of  all  the  letters  of  the 
Greek  alphabet  !  " 

"And  what  do  you  say  of  the  senior  societies?"  asked  Harry. 

Miss  Brown  said  nothing  ;  even  she  was  aware  of  the  atmos 
phere  of  mystery  and  respect  which  in  New  Haven  surrounds 
the  societies  of  senior  year.  Yet  after  they  had  ridden  on  a  mile 
or  two  she  turned  to  Harry,  and  ventured,  "  There  is  a  Latin  motto 
which  applies  to  senior  year — ignotum  pro  magnifico." 

"  Hush  !  "  cried  Nevers.  "  Let  us  not  speak  of  senior  year — 'lest 
the  very  air  carry  tidings  '  and  our  'chances'  are  hurt." 

And  so,  laughing  and  joking,  they  came  along  a  winding  gravelly 
ascent,  'tween  hedgerows  fresh  scented,  and  covered  with  climb 
ing  vines  and  flowers,  to  Sedgewood. 

They  passed  between  two  high  posts  covered  with  ivy  ;  on  the 
top  of  one  was  a  motto  : 

"  Leave  all  care  behind,  ye  who  enter  here." 

Their  genial  host  came  out  and  greeted  them.  And  they  dis 
mounted,  and  sat  about  on  the  wide  veranda  listening  to  his  genial 
reminiscences  of  his  days  at  Yale  long  before  the  war.  A  number 
of  agreeable  people  drove  out  from  New  Haven,  and  tea  was 
served  on  the  smooth  lawn  before  the  pleasant  country  house.  The 
talk  fell  upon  the  deplorable  lack  of  a  "literary  atmosphere  "  at 
Yale,  and  Mr.  Donald  seemed  to  be  of  the  opinion  that  in  time 
this  would  all  change  for  the  better.  "  Look  at  our  famous  Yale 
authors  and  poets,"  he  said.  "  What  a  list  they  are  from  Morris  and 
Willis  to  Stedman  !  It's  a  pity  the  college  does  nothing  to  honor 
them — but  what  can  they  do  ?  " 


THE   RIDING  PARTY.  387 

"Harvard  made  Longfellow  and  Lowell  its  professors,"  said 
Nevers. 

"Well,  give  Yale  money  and  time  to  develop  out  of  its  pro 
vincialism  and  puritanism.  It's  growing  fast.  The  time  will 
surely  come  when  an  author  of  celebrity  will  be  as  highly  honored 
as  a  back  country  minister  or  a  politician  !  " 

"  Why  was  it  she  captured  Nevers  and  hung  on  to  him,  and 
would  hardly  say  a  word  to  me?"  asked  Harry  that  night,  as  he 
sat  smoking — Harding  allowed  one  cigar  a  day  for  his  nine  that 
year.  "Jack,  I  don't  believe  she  cares  the  snap  of  her  fingers  for 
me.  In  spite  of  all  her  professions,  at  Sedgewood  she  would  hardly 
let  me  pass  her  a  bit  of  cake." 

"Yes,  and  you  devoted  yourself 'to  Fanny  Brown;  laughing 
and  talking  all  the  whole  time,  made  a  dead  set  at  her.  No  wonder 
Clara  '  kicked  '  !  " 

"And  how  about  you  and  the  Walker?  " 

"  Old  friends,  that's  all."  Jack  looked  around  furtively.  "In 
the  garden,  walking  among  those  rose  vines  in  the  dusk — I  asked 
her  to  marry  me — I  did — by  Jove  !  " 

"  GOOD  LORD  !  "     Harry  was  thunderstruck. 

"And  she  let  me  kiss  her — dear  old  thing — and  she  cried,  and 
she  told  me  how  many  men  had  asked  her,  and  how  she  had  hesi 
tated  and  questioned  her  own  mind  so  much  and  often,  and  talked 
with  her  father,  who  is  such  a  'nice'  discriminator — that  she 
never  could  quite  make  up  her  mind.  '  Now,  when  I  am  old,'  she 
said,  '  I  see  my  mistake  :  I  should  have  followed  my  heart,  not  my 
head.  It's  too  late  now  for  me  to  marry.'  " 

"  I  suppose  she  went  to  her  father  the  professor,  and  he  sized  up 
all  the  different  students  one  after  another  according  to  stand  since — 
who  was  it?  Dingle}7,  now  U.  S.  Senator,  of  '03  ? — and  pointed  out 
some  unfitness.  But  you'd  be  safe  enough,  Jack  ;  he'd  easily  point 
out  your  unfitness  !  You're  only  just  above  average  !  " 

"  Sarah !  I  love  you,  dear  old  thing  !  I'd  leave  college  and  marry 
you  !  She's  got  splendid  principles.  She  confessed  her  age  to  me — 
thirty-one — and  she  refused  me  !  " 


388  COLLEGE   DAYS. 

Harry  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  "  You're  a  good  fellow,  Jack," 
he  said.  "  But  don't  do  it  again." 

"  No,  my  sense  of  honor  is  satisfied  ;  I  mean  to  be  simply  good 
friends.  That's  all.  There  is  going  to  be  a  german  at  Governor 
Tal man's  next  week,  and  I  m  going  to  be  her  partner." 

"  Yes,  and  I  Fanny  Brown's." 

Jack  whistled.  "  Well,  I  should  think  Clara  would  object,"  he 
laughed. 

Harry  didn't  say  anything  for  a  few  moments  ;  then  he  ob 
served  casually,  "  I  thought  you  considered  yourself  engaged  to 
that  Dolphin  girl  in  Stratford  ?  " 

"  Hang  it,  I'm  engaged  to  three  besides  that,"  said  Jack.  "  I  do 
it  because  I  like  to  do  what  the  girls  like.  Girls  like  sincere, 
honest  fellows  who  come  up  to  the  scratch  and  ask  them  to  marry. 
That's  what  the  girls  want — to  marry  !  " 

"  Sincere  and  honest  rascals  !  " 

"  I'm  engaged  in  New  York,  one  ;  in  Charmington,  one  ;  in  Mit- 
ford,  one  ;  and  it  would  have  been  in  New  Haven  one,  too,  if  Miss 
Walker  had  not  been  so  sensible.  I  tell  them  all  that  I  can't  write 
but  once  in  two  weeks,  as  the  faculty  forbid  it.  I  am  under  the 
banns,  you  see  !  " 

"  You'll  get  3rour  name  in  the  newspapers  as  breaking  the  record 
in  hearts,"  laughed  Harry,  as  they  blew  out  the  lamp  and  got  into 
their  separate,  narrow  little  beds. 

Harry  lay  awake  a  long  time  ;  many  things  worried  him.  The 
ball  nine  seemed  to  be  falling  off.  Amherst  nearly  beat  them  (to 
be  sure  he  was  not  in  the  box).  Dan's  fingers  were  sprained, 
Harding's  knee  troubled  him.  But  aside  from  that  he  had  an  un- 
definable  sense  of  regret  over  Clara  Hastings,  she  treated  him  so 
like  a  perfect  stranger.  He  would  go  up  and  see  her  in  the  morn 
ing  to-morrow,  and  try  and  find  out  whether  she  really  intended,  as 
he  for  some  reason  supposed,  to  wholly  throw  him  over. 

But  when  the  morning  came  it  was  Saturday  ;  he  was  busy  run 
ning  about  for  Harding,  who  was  nursing  himself  in  his  room,  and 
trying  to  get  his  knee  "  limber,"  as  he  said.  They  were  to  play 
Brown  in  the  afternoon,  and  Brown  had  come  very  close  to  beat- 


THE  RIDIXG  PARTY.  389 

ing  Harvard.  Harry  was  to  pitch,  although  his  "  understudy  " 

Stickney,  the  freshman — begged  very  hard  to  be  allowed  to  "  down  " 
Brown.  He  had  no  time  to  run  up  to  llillhouse  Avenue,  and  back 
on  the  green  lawns  of  the  Mulford  place,  and  play  with  the  cats. 
He  sent  a  note  up  by  a  messenger  boy  that  he  was  so  busy  over  the 
details  of  arranging  the  game  that  afternoon  that  he  would  not  be 
able  to  call. 

In  the  afternoon  before  the  game,  which  proved  a  surprise  for 
Yale,  he  went  up  to  the  Muli'ord  carriage,  in  which  Miss  Crirusy, 
with  her  homely  but  good-natured  face,  made  almost  too  much  of  a 
contrast  to  Clara  Hastings' beauty.  A  very  dashing  looking  young 
man  had  ridden  out  on  a  line  thoroughbred  horse,  and  was  stand 
ing  leaning  over  her  carriage  and  talking  to  Clara  beneath  her 
white  sunshade.  It  was  a  man  of  over  thirty,  with  handsome 
eyes  and  long  dark  mustaches.  Harry,  as  he  came  up  in  his  ugly 
baseball  suit,  wearing  his  large  shoes,  his  dingy  blue-and-white 
uniform,  felt  rather  out  of  place.  Clara  introduced  him  to  "  Mr. 
Clayton  of  TJmpty-one."  Why  did  Clara,  who  had  confessed  her 
love  for  him  at  the  Junior  Promenade,  wish  to  flirt  so  with  every 
handsome  graduate  who  appeared  ?  "  Confound  these  good-look 
ing  old  grads,"  said  Harry  to  himself,  "  they  don't  let  a  man  have 
half  a  chance  !  " 

All  through  the  game  with  Brown  Mr.  Clayton  flirted  and 
chatted  with  Clara  to  such  an  extent  that  everyone  noticed  it. 
Harry  began  to  pitch  in  the  wildest  and  most  unreliable  manner. 
How  she  loved  to  tantalize  him — the  exasperating,  dashing,  wicked 
little  Puritan  !  What  was  the  reason  of  her  capriciousness  ? 

At  all  events,  to  Harry's  chagrin,  Brown  beat  Yale  that  day, 
7  to  6. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

THE    GAME    AT    CAMBRIDGE. 

• 

last  Saturday  of  that  beautiful  month  of  May 
brought  the  first  Harvard  game  of  the  season  at 
Cambridge.  Captain  Harding  took  his  nine,  with 
the  four  substitutes,  followers,  scorers,  officers  of 
the  Y.  U.  B.  B.  C.,  to  Boston  on  the  da}-  before  the 
£ame.  Harding  himself  was  in  a  state  of  tension 

O  O 

the  moment  the  Boston  and  Albany  depot  was 
reached.  He  admitted  he  felt  as  though  they  were  now  on  the 
enemy's  territory,  and  that  their  path  was  full  of  pitfalls.  All  the 
Boston  world  was  excited  over  the  coming  match.  Great  red  and 
blue  posters,  announcing  the  game,  adorned  every  available  wall 
space  and  fence.  Harry  felt  that  the  eyes  of  the  universe  were 
upon  him.  He  expected  to  win,  but  baseball  is  mighty  "  onsartin!  " 
Suppose  the  nine  should  get  rattled  by  the  tremendous  shouting  of 
all  Harvard  and-Boston  combined  ! 

"  I'll  tell  you  how  to  keep  down  the  yelling — the  only  way,"  said 
Harding,  who  was  cool  as  an  iceberg.  "  You  can't  expect  to  shut 
off  all  the  noise,  but  it's  my  experience  there's  one  infallible  way  of 
keeping  things  decidedly  quiet  on  the  enemy's  ground." 

"How?" 

"  Why,  start  in  and  get  a  winning  lead  the  first  inning  !  "  he 
laughed.  "  You'll  be  surprised  how  it  quiets  things  down  !  All 
this  talk  about  winning  on  the  shouting  is  rot.  We've  got  to  ex 
pect  it.  Don't  think  of  the  crowds.  Play  the  game."  And  Hard 
ing  distributed  to  each  man  a  stick  of  chewing  gum.  "  Nothing 
like  chewing  gum  to  keep  one's  nerves  down,"  he  laughed. 

The  next  morning  the  nine  went  out  to  the  professional 
"Bostons'"  grounds  for  a  little  light  practice.  Every  man  was 


THE    GAME  AT   CAMBRIDGE.  391 

very  confident,  and  the  professionals  who  were  not  practicing  told 
them  they  had  what  is  known  as  a  "  cinch."  "  The  Ilayverds  is  no 
good  this  year,"  said  the  famous  pitcher  Mike  Stacy.  "  Dey 
aint  no  better'n  last  year.  I've  heerd  yer  was  quite  a  twister,  Mr. 
Chissleton.  I'd  like  to  obsarve  some  o'  them  curves,  if  ye  plase." 

To  oblige  the  great  professional  pitcher,  Harry  threw  in  a  few 
to  Danforth,  while  Mike  Stacy  stood  behind  Dan  and  got  his  eye 
on  the  line  of  the  ball. 

"  Ye've  got  a  mighty  pritty  command  o'  the  ball,  youngster," 
said  the  veteran.  "  Now,  here,  I'll  show  you  anither  thrick.  With 
the  same  motions  ye  can  sind  in  the  ball  fast  or  slow.  See  ?" 

"  That's  old,"  said  Harry,  and  he  proceeded  to  pitch  the  ball  to 
show  that  he  was  familiar  with  the  trick.  Mike  smiled.  "Ye  do 
that  well,"  he  said.  "  But  the  best  of  all  is  to  sind  the  ball  close 
to  the  striker.  The  more  I  contimplate  the  philosophy  o'  the  sub 
ject  the  more  sure  I  am  it's  putting  in  the  ball,  high  or  low,  close  to 
the  body  as  is  the  hardest  ball  to  hit — except  fer  Misther  Anson 
mebbe — fer  there's  some  as  kin  hit  eriny  thing,  an'  him's  wan  o' 
them." 

"  Don't  pitch  too  long,"  called  out  Captain  Harding,  and  Harry 
stopped,  and  went  in  to  bat.  After  half  an  hour's  further  practice 
they  went  back  to  the  hotel  and  read  the  papers.  There  were  long 
columns  on  the  abilities  and  chances  of  each  nine.  The  Boston 
papers  expected  Harvard  to  win — "  because  they  had  never  yet 
been  beaten  by  Yale  until  last  year" — and  there  was  a  great  deal 
of  talk  in  the  way  of  "  rattling"  a  green  nine  in  a  tight  place. 

When  they  arrived  in  their  stage  at  Harvard  Square,  it  seemed 
as  if  the  entire  university  was  out  to  welcome  the  team.  Harding 
jumped  down  and  shook  hands  with  Captain  Byng  ;  nearly  all  of 
the  Harvard  nine  were  there,  also,  and  as  it  was  an  hour  before  the 
game  was  to  be  called  at  Jarvis'  Field,  every  one  of  both  teams  went 
over  to  old  Massachusetts  Hall,  where  Captain  Byng  threw  open 
his  room  and  entertained  them.  There  was  not  much  said,  and 
each  camp  seemed  to  eye  the  other  with  some  jealousy  and  sus 
picion.  It  was  the  first  time  Harry  had  ever  been  in  Cambridge, 
and  he  and  Jack  strolled  about  the  beautiful  college  yard  under 


392  COLLEGE   DA  VS. 

the  escort  of  two  or  three  of  the  Harvard  nine.  The  great  Memorial 
Hall  was  just  completed,  and  the  Yale  contingent  were  much  inter 
ested  in  the  capital  idea  of  all  the  classes  dining  in  the  same  great 
room  together.  They  went  over  to  the  boathouse  on  the  Charles, 
but  the  'Varsity  crew  were  not  on  exhibition  that  day  for  the  bene 
fit  of  Yale  men,  of  whom  the  beautiful  old  town  by  this  time  was 
pretty  well  filled. 

"It's  a  delightful  old  place  to  spend  four  years  in,"  said  Jack 
admiringly.  "  And  if  one  cannot  have  the  privilege  of  going  to 
Yale,  I  suppose  a  fellow  can  worry  along  here  in  this  little  village 
pretty  comfortably,  with  Boston  in  sight." 

"  Do  you  notice  that  no  one  wears  a  badge  of  any  kind  ?  "  said 
Harry.  "  At  Yale  everyone  sports  some  sort  of  a  sign  and  declares 
what  he  is — but  here — how  can  you  tell  who's  who  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  brand  our  men  as  they  do  cattle  out  west,"  laughed  a 
Harvard  junior.  "  Did  you  ever  see  a  Dicky  man's  arm  ?  He 
doesn't  need  a  badge  to  remind  him  he's  '  in  it '  !  " 

"I  wish  you  would  explain  your  society  system — it  seems  so 
complicated,"  said  Jack.  "  I  understand  that  a  man  is  elected  to 
a  senior  society  in  freshman  year  ;  and  after  that,  if  he  wants  to  go 
to  the  Hasty  Pudding  club,  lie  has  to  be  initiated  into  the  Institute 
in  sophomore  year  and  so  enter  the  A.  D.  Club,  vulgarly  known 
in  every  other  college  as  Alpha  Delta  Phi,  or  he  joins  the  Dicky — 
also  vulgarly  known  as  the  D.  K.  E.,  and  then  he  may  stand  a  show 
of  getting  into  the  first  twenty  of  the  Pudding — a  man  just 
explained  it  to  me " 

The  Harvard  men  laughed.  "You  are  hopelessly  mixed,"  they 
said.  But  as  they  were  at  the  entrance  of  Jarvis'  Field  by  this 
time,  the  society  system  of  Harvard  remained  a  mystery  to  Jack 
for  some  time  thereafter. 

A  train  full  of  Yale  men  had  come  up  to  Cambridge  to  back  their 
nine,  and  the  rah-rahs  had  already  begun  before  the  nine  came  out 
on  the  field.  The  Harvard  crowd  was  entirely  confident  of  victory, 
and  Stamp,  who  wore  three  yards  of  blue  ribbon  around  his  neck 
and  body,  had  all  he  could  do  to  stem  the  tide  and  keep  spirit  in  his 
men.  When  they  began  playing,  and  for  three  innings  not  a  run 


THE    GAME   AT   CAMBRIDGE.  393 

had  been  scored  on  either  side,  there  seemed  to  be  a  growing 
uneasiness  on  the  grand  stand.  In  the  fourth  inning  the  tide 
turned.  Danforth  hit  a  scorcher  to  short,  which  Harvard  fumbled. 
Harry  knocked  out  a  clean  two-base  hit  to  left,  and  Dan  stopped  on 
third.  Harding  batted  out  a  high  fly  to  right,  caught— but  Mur 
doch  hit  safely,  and  Dan  scored.  Devine  cracked  out  a  liner  to 
right  after  that,  and  brought  in  Harry  and  Murdoch.  The  inning 
closed  with  Yale  4,  Harvard  0. 

Harry,  feeling  confident,  let  up  a  little  next  inning,  and  tried  all 
his  fancy  tricks  :  result,  Harvard  made  one  run.  But  Yale  was 
certain  of  the  result  as  if  the  ninth  inning  had  arrived. 

Yale  had  now  got  on  to  the  Harvard  pitcher,  and  banged  the  ball 
all  over  the  field.  The  game  turned  out  a  Waterloo.  Intense 
gloom  filled  the  air  to  all  except  the  jolly  Yale  men,  who  sang  and 
danced  and  offered  any  imaginable  odds  and  found  no  takers. 
Victory  had  consented  to  perch,  on  the  Yale  banners,  even  on 
Jarvis'  Field  !  The  score  rose  to  9-3.  The  Yale  nine  felt 
"chipper,"  and  went  at  the  ball  with  a  confidence  which  precluded 
a  mere  strike,  and  they  played  almost  faultlessly  in  the  field.  It 
was  a  glorious  day  for  Yale  !  The  bright  sun  beamed  upon  them 
with  a  cheerful  sympathy.  How  beautiful  the  trees  looked  against 
the  turrets  and  towers  of  the  college  buildings  !  How  easy  it 
seemed  to  play  a  "  gallery  "  game  and  win  !  The  Harvard  crowd 
had  an  indignant,  sullen  air,  as  if  they  thought  the  Yale  team  highly 
impudent  to  come  over  and  beat  them  on  their  own  campus. 
"  Oh  !  "  cried  one  pretty  young  lady  in  red,  "oh,  for  one  half  hour 
of  Archie  Bush  !  " 

As  they  approached  the  ninth  inning  Yale  went  in  to  make  the 
score  as  large  as  possible,  in  the  same  provoking  way  a  crew  that  is 
ahead  will  pull  for  all  they're  worth  to  humble  their  rivals,  and 
succeeded  in  making  the  final  score  17-5. 

The  team,  after  cheering  the  vanquished,  took  the  first  express 
for  New  Haven,  where  they  arrived  about  ten  o'clock  that  night 
with  the  Yale  contingent,  flushed  with  champagne  and  victory. 
The  whole  college  was  waiting  for  them.  A  band  was  ready  at 
the  depot.  The  nine  was  mounted  on  a  coach,  and  red  and  blue  fire 


394  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

burned  galore  all  the  way  up  Chapel  Street.  As  Harry  rode  up 
with  the  nine,  holding  Stamp  in  his  arms,  and  the  shouts  and 
applause  and  cheers  greeted  his  ears,  he  wondered  if  Clara  Hastings 
had  heard  the  news,  and  whether  the  fact  that  he  had  struck  out 
ten  men  would  have  any  bearing  on  her  supposed  regard  for  him. 
Even  in  the  supreme  moment  of  victory,  victory  was  robbed  of 
its  grace  unless  he  could  hear  words  of  delight  and  congratulation 
from  her  lips. 

But  nevertheless  it  was  a  glorious  celebration.  A  great  bonfire 
was  built  out  under  the  elms  before  South  Middle.  Around  it  hand 
in  hand  danced  a  ring  of  jolly  students,  the  fire  flashing  into  their 
faces,  singing,  "  Here's  to  good  old  Yale  !  "  Rockets  shot  up 
through  the  elms  with  a  rush  and  a  roar  which  frightened  the  poor 
theologues,  over  in  Divinity  Hall,  out  of  their  wits.  The  band 
played  till  long  past  midnight  at  the  fence,  and  the  entire  fresh 
man  class  got  very  jolly  on  beer,  and  made  the  rest  of  the  night 
hideous  for  those  who  tried  to  get  a  little  sleep.  The  next  day 
being  Sunday,  early  chapel  was  very  thinly  attended.  And  the 
"  sick  excuses  "  handed  in  Monday  for  absences  from  church  (and 
marks)  were  as  thick  as  leaves  in  Vallambrosa  ! 


CHAPTER  XLII. 


THE    NEW    LONDON    RACE. 

S"  spite  of  considerable  opposition  Bob  Clark  had 
succeeded  in  getting  "  on  "  an  eight-oared  race 
with  Harvard  at  New  London.*  "  Eights,"  were 
then  a  new  departure  in  American  college  row 
ing,  and  a  departure  which  was  destined  to  be 
followed,  each  succeeding  year,  on  the  American 
as  on  the  English  Thames.  Eights  made  a 
finer  show,  a  greater  contest,  and  interested 
more  men  in  the  crew.  Besides,  we  natu 
rally  wished  to  be  on  a  par  with  our  English 
cousins  from  whom  all  our  rowing  comes. 
Yale,  as  the  originator  of  the  English  stroke, 
naturally  followed  this  up  by  wishing  to  imitate  the  English 
system  throughout.  English  ale  was  first  used  in  training  by 
Yale,  and  the  English  system  of  keeping  a  man  a  trifle  under- 
trained  and  fat  rather  than  overtrained  and  stale.  In  the  English 
stroke  the  back  was  kept  straight,  the  head  thrown  back,  the 
body  brought  to  hardly  more  than  a  perpendicular  position  at  the 
end  of  the  stroke,  and  the  chief  work  was  done  by  means  of  the 
sliding  seat  and  the  legs.  The  old-fashioned  "  Ward  Brothers" 
stroke  (Ward  trained  Amherst  for  two  wins,  and  Williams  for  a 
sixth  place)  was  at  the  time  generally  regarded  as  the  best 
"  winner."  It  was  similar  to  the  stroke  used  subsequently  by  the 
Sho-wae-cae-mettes  of  Michigan;  in  other  words  it  was  a  "git 

*  We  are  full}' aware  that  the  first  "  eights"  rowed  in  1870  at  Springfield, 
when  Yale  won  ;  and  we  are  merely  taking  a  liberty  witli  boating  history  which 
is  warranted  by  the  desire  to  describe  a  Xew  London  race,  the  usual  aunual 
contest  at  present. 


396  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

thar"  stroke.  The  reach  forward  was  hardly  as  far  as  the 
toes,  the  back,  arms,  and  legs  moved  simultaneously,  and  the  body 
at  the  end  of  the  stroke  was  at  a  slight  angle  forward  of  the  per 
pendicular.  It  was  a  difficult  stroke  to  pull  effectively  for  any 
distance  beyond  three  miles  by  any  except  very  strong  and  well- 
seasoned  athletes,  the  reason  being  that  the  swing  of  the  body  was 
so  great  as  to  "pump  "the  oarsmen,  without  any  corresponding 
increase  of  speed.  To  this  day  there  are  old  professional  oars  who 
claim  that  this  stroke  is  the  best  for  the  strong  man. 

Oil,  alumnus  !  now  just  blossoming  forth  in  the  coming  genera 
tion  with  a  son  a  freshman,  and  a  daughter  pretty,  plump,  and 
debonair  and  crazy  over  Yale  athletics — it  won't  do  for  you  to  say 
you're  getting  old,  or  to  depend  upon  the  New  York  morning  papers 
for  your  accounts  of  the  great  race.  Go  to  New  London  race 
week — go,  sir,  and  don't  hesitate  an  instant  !  Take  Mrs.,  your 
wife,  and  Miss,  your  daughter — the  freshman  will  take  care  of  him 
self  !  It  wasn't  so  many  years  ago  that  Mrs.  Brown  or  Smith  or 
Jones  was  getting  in  her  early  work  on  you  with  her  pretty  eyes 
at  Springfield,  when  lowly  Amherst,  who  trained  on  beans,  prayers, 
and  oatmeal,  came  spurting  in  to  victory.  Can  you  forget  those 
glorious  days  in  '73  when  Yale  won  ?  Well,  then,  take  that  lovely 
duplicate  of  your  good  wife — that  blue-eyed,  sweet  daughter  of 
yours,  and  go  and  see  Yale  win  again  at  New  London  ! 

The  Caswells  came  up  from  New  York,  and  went  on  to  New 
London  in  grand  style  this  year.  Mr.  Caswell,  Sr.,  had  been  a  Spade 
and  Grave  man  in  his  senior  year  at  college,  and  he  felt  deeply 
Teddy's  not  being  elected.  He  didn't  run  or  guy  the  young  man 
on  this  subject,  and  Teddy  was  grateful  to  him.  It  was  too  bad — 
but  Caswell  had  been  a  little  too  "gay."  He  had  got  on  several 
wild  sprees,  and  had  shown  up  on  the  campus,  singing  maudlin 
songs  and  daring  various  members  of  the  faculty  to  "  come  on  !  " — 
and  that  he  would  "  disperse  "  for  no  man  !  He  had  had  narrow 
escapes  at  these  times,  but  had  never  been  caught  by  anyone  save 
kindly  Tutor  Dilworthy,  who  never  appeared  to  see  anything  that 
went  on,  to  the  students'  detriment.  Caswell  ought  to  have  gone 


THE  NEW  LONDON  RACE.  397 

to  a  senior  society.  So  ought  about  a  hundred  more  of  his  class 
mates,  but  where  there  is  room  only  for  fifteen  or  so — how  are  you 
going  to  crowd  in  the  rest  of  the  class?  My  good  friend  whose 
luck  has  been  unfavorable,  especially  along  in  May  term  junior 
year,  don't  feel  too  much  grieved  over  your  fate.  Go  to  work  ; 
show  the  world  that  you  deserve  a  high  place  in  it.  Let  not  the 
gall  and  wormwood  of  this  disappointment  unfit  you  for  life.  Cas- 
well  made  enemies  in  his  own  class,  and  when  the  time  came  for 
his  friends  to  elect  him,  he  was  defeated  by  a  man  who  cherished 
a  grudge  against  him  for  some  reason  since  sophomore  year.  It 
was  a  good  thing  for  "Gassy  " — it  made  a  man  of  him  afterward, 
sobered  him  up,  and  for  two  or  three  years  after  leaving  college 
no  man  worked  harder  for  a  reputation  than  he.  And  to-day 
what  man  has  made  a  greater  success  in  his  Western  railways  than 
that  harum-scarum  chap,  oli  alumni  of  Umpty-four?  But  it  was 
a  bitter,  bitter  disappointment  at  the  time.  To  look  forward 
through  all  the  first  three  years — in  his  case  four — for  the  "  sure 
thing  "  which  in  his  cups  he  confided  to  everyone  who  happened  to 
be  near,  and  then  slip  up— well,  poor  Caswell  nearly  went  crazy! 
He  talked  of  going  around  the  world  in  a  year,  and  getting  a  pledge 
from  every  man  in  the  Umpty-four  "  crowd  "  before  he  went. 
But  he  gave  this  up.  Senior  societies  are  the  great  crowning  gift 
of  Yale,  but  if  one  does  not  receive  the  gift  fairly  in  turn,  is  it  so 
much  an  honor  ?  and  is  not  some  equally  deserving  man  in  the 
class  unfairly  bereft  of  his  chances  ? 

Perhaps  it  was  because  he  was  so  sorry  for  his  son  that  his  father 
made  extra  preparations  for  the  race  week.  He  had  sold  the 
famous  old  Tarquin  and  bought  a  new  roomy  fast  steam  yacht,  the 
Alcazar,  and  he  gave  "Teddy  "full  control  for  the  race  week  as 
to  guests  and  equipment.  "Invite  your  friends,"  said  the  old  gen 
tleman.  "  Invite  those  you  liked  best  in  college— and  their  cousins 
and  their  sisters  and  their  aunts  !  " 

So  Caswell  made  out  a  list.  It  included  Uncle  Dick,  the 
Rives  family  (Bessie  was  said  to  be  engaged  to  Stafford  of  Umpty- 
three,  captain  of  the  football  team),  the  Chcstleton  family  (Kitty 
was  growing  to  be  a  "raving  beauty"),  Clara  Hastings  and 


398  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

her  aunt  Miss  Mulford,  Miss  Walker,  Miss  Mead,  Fanny  Brown, 
Daisy  Stevenson  and  her  brother,  who  had  just  returned  to  America 
from  abroad  for  the  summer  and  were  visiting  in  New  Haven — 
making  a  "  jolly  crowd  for  a  three  days'  trip  from  New  Haven — 
and  afterward  to  Newport  "  ;  the  plan  being  to  wait  till  the  next 
day  after  the  race,  then  end  up  the  trip  over  Sunday  at  Newport, 
at  the  Caswells'  country  place. 

Kitty  and  her  mother  went  on  to  New  Haven  with  Uncle  Dick 
Lyman  the  Saturday  preceding  Commencement  week.  The  last 
ball  game  of  the  year  took  place  on  the  new  Yale  Field,  a  few 
miles  more  or  less  out  of  New  Haven,  and  possibly  not  any  further 
from  college  than  Hamilton  Park.  At  the  time  the  field  was 
hardly  ready  for  occupation — the  outfield  was  rough — but  the 
grand  stand  was  in  order,  and  they  had  enjoyed  seeing  Harvard 
laid  low  in  the  dust,  by  a  score  nearly  as  good  as  the  game  at  Cam 
bridge.  There  followed,  that  night,  the  jolly  Glee  Club  Concert, 
and  Sunday  they  had  all  been  to  chapel — held  there  for  the  first 
time  in  the  new  and  beautiful  Battel  building  at  the  corner  of 
Elm  Street.  Kitty  in  her  pretty,  large,  summer  straw  hat  made  a 
sensation  in  the  gallery,  by  her  beauty,  which  was  of  a  dazzling 
and  dynamic  quality  ;  Sunday  afternoon — a  drive  about  New 
Haven  ;  Sunday  night — a  tea  at  Harry  and  Jack's  room  in  Durfee. 
When  she  got  back  to  her  room  at  the  New  Haven  House  Kitty 
sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter  to  an  old  school  friend  in  New  York, 
and  we  have  been  allowed  to  transcribe  it  in  full : 

NEW  HAVEN,  June  24,  18 — . 
DEAREST  FLORENCE  : 

I  promised  you  I'd  write  and  so  I'm  going  to  try,  but  it's  so  hard  to  find  time! 
Here  it  is  Sunday  night,  and  yet  everybody  is  walking  about  the  campus  in  the 
moonlight,  and  they  are  singing  hymns  over  on  the  fence.  Where  shall  I  be 
gin?  Oh,  the  ball  game!  to  see  Harry  cool  as  a  cucumber  and  Mr.  Danforth 
standing  up  so  dose  behind  the  bat,  I  was  sure  he'd  get  hit;  only  he  looked  so 
funny  in  a  mask,  a  great  wire  thing  like  a  dog's  muzzle.  But  such  a  game! 
and  I  felt  so  sorry  for  Harvard.  They  hadn't  any  chance.  And  once  Mr. 
Danforth  turned  around  and  smiled  up  at  us,  and  mamma  and  I  bowed  to 
him;  and  Mr.  Rives  said  he  was  the  best  catcher  Yale  ever  had,  and  I  was  so 
proud  of  Harry  I  couldn't  speak.  And  oh,  it  was  such  a  sight!  carriages  four 


THE  NEW  LONDON  RACE. 


399 


deep  all  around  the  grounds,  lots  of  smart  girls  too.  And  such  men!  oh,  I've 
got- lots  io  tell  you.  Mr.  Nevers  I  like  so  much;  very  quiet,  a  literary 'light 
and  all  that ;  but  I  think  I  like  dear  Jack  best.  So  handsome  he  is  now  with 
his  brand-new  mustache,  and  so  clever.  And  you  ought  to  see  their  room  in 
Durfee;  just  as  pretty  as  it  can  be,  ever  so  much  prettier  than  the  one  in  South 
Middle  last  year.  They  have  Jack's  '  Varsity  oar  over  the  mantel,  and  lots  of 
flags  and  trophies,  and  gilded  baseballs,  and  dance  cards,  and  photographs  of 
actresses— they're  Jack's,  poor  Harry  lias  only  one  girl  in  his  eye  ;  and  no  one 
can  tell,  they  are  so  mysterious  about  it,  whether  they  are  really  engaged  or 
not.  I  was  sure  they  made  it  up  at  the  Junior  Prom  ;  but  since  then  they  say 
Clara  has  been  flirting  desperately  with  Mr.  l)e  Koven  and  several  others. '  To 
day  we  went  to  chapel  to  hear  the  Baccalaureate  sermon,  and  such  a  lecture 
those  boys  got!  Probably  it's  the  last  sermon  a  good  many  of  them  will  listen  to 
for  many  a  long  day.  And  this  afternoon  we  drove  all  over  New  Haven,  and 
up  to  see  the  soldiers'  monument.  Oh,  the  view  is  r/rand,  almost  as  beautiful 
as  Mt.  Desert.  And  to-night  the  boys  had  us  to  tea  in  Durfee;  issued  cards  and 
had  twenty  people  there  jammed  into  their  little  parlor.  And  such  a  beauty 
as  Clara  Hastings  is  this  summer!  no  wonder  she  flirts  her  head  off.  I  would 
too,  and  have  a  good  time  before  I  settled  down  to  stupid  marriage. 

What  do  you  think  they  gave  us  to  eat?  Lobster  broiled  and  Bass'  ale  and 
coffee  ;  and  then  Welsh  rarebits,  which  Jack  and  Clara  made  in  a  great  chafing 
dish,  while  Harry  stood  off  silent,  and  looking  so  sort  of  lost.  Oh,  the  Glee 
Club  concert  was  just  street!  such  a  nice  set  of  men.  So  funny,  too — the  songs. 
Mr.  Danforth  sang  "  Peter  Gray."  Do  you  know  it?  Then,  to-morrow — oh, 
I've  forgotten  lots  of  things  to  do.  See  the  buildings  for  one  thing.  And  I've 
made  more  than  twenty  engagements  and  have  forgotten  all  of  them.  Oh, 
now  I  remember,  we  are  to  have  a  swell  lunch  at  the  Mulfords'  on  Hillhouse 
Avenue,  and  a  sort  of  lawn  party  after  it  ;  and  to-7norrow  evening  a  dinner 
and  agerman  at  the  Talmans'.  I've  met  Daisy  Stevenson,  whom  we  all  liked 
so  much  at  Mt.  Desert  last  year.  Back  for  good,  they  say— will  study  art  in 
New  York  now.  And  there  was  a  jolly  girl,  Fanny  Brown,  who  they  say  is 
the  most  popular  New  Haven  girl  in  college.  She's  a  round,  rosy,  lively, 
witty  sort  of  a  girl.  Do  you  know  we're  invited  by  Mr.  Caswell  on  his  yacht 
for  the  races  ;  and  are  going  to  New  London  Wednesday  afternoon,  just 
giving  me  time  to  look  in  and  see  the  Commencement  at  full  blast !  and  then, 

ho  for  New  Lunnon  ! 

Ever  your 

KATE. 

P.  S.  Jack  says  that  he's  engaged  to  three  girls  already,  and  to-night  he 
had  the  impudence  to  ask  me  if  I  didn't  want  to  make  a  fourth  !  He  says  it 
keeps  him  pretty  busy  buying  presents,  and  not  pelting  his  correspondence  all 
mixed  up  !  and  he'd  like  to  turn  the  literary  bureau  over  to  me. 


4oo  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

Kitty's  letters  to  her  schoolgirl  friend  are  so  perfectly  na'ive 
and  fairly  descriptive  of  what  a  "sister,  a  cousin,  or  an  aunt"  sees 
in  New  Haven  at  Commencement  time  that  we'll  insert  another, 
(always  with  the  reader's  kind  permission). 

WEDNESDAY. 
DEAR  FLORENCE : 

We  are  just  about  to  go  aboard  the  yacht.  Let  me  see,  when  did  I  write  ? 
Was  it  Sunday  ?  Well,  Monday  the  fun  began  in  earnest.  The  first  thing 
that  happened  Mr.  Danforth  presented  himself  as  we  came  out  from  breakfast, 
bearing  the  most  elegant  basket  of  "Jack"  roses  you  ever  saw;  he  just 
handed  'em  to  me  in  the  parlor  in  an  offhand  way  ;  said  he  thought  it  would 
make  our  room  seem  more  homelike.  Well,  mamma  just  went  crazy  over 
them,  they  were  so  beautiful.  She  loves  flowers— and  so  do  I — who  doesn't  ? 
The  dear,  sweet,  silent  things  !  and  Jack  says  roses  are  full  of  love — and  non 
sense  !  Mr.  Danforth  says  such  snippy  things  of  Jack,  it's  real  mean  of  him. 
And  Jack  always  speaks  so  kindly  of  Mr:  Danforth.  Well,  Monday  went  in  a 
sort  of  a  whirl.  Oh,  I  met  so  many  men  !  They  all  flatter  you  to  death.  If 
I  believed  everything  they  said,  you  wouldn't  know  your  vain  Kitty  !  Well, 
Monday,  let  me  see.  Oh,  we  went  all  over  the  buildings,  Peabody  Museum 
and  Library  (N.  B.  Elegant  place  to  flirt  in,  as  says  Jack) ;  saw  several  girls 
I  knew  in  New  York,  Bessie  Hargreaves,  for  one.  Her  father  has  just  given 
her  a  diamond  star  to  wear  at  the  Senior  Prom,  which  we  are  not  going  to 
stay  for  to-night.  I'm  fagged  out  and  glad  to  rest.  I  know  we  had  a  ride  in 
the  afternoon  and  went  in  to  Mr.  Donald's  place,  ten  in  the  party.  Evening, 
dinner  at  the  Talmans'  and  a  german  ;  then,  what  do  you  think  ?'  It  was  a 
glorious  moonlight  night  and  they  teased  us  so  we  all  went  out  sailing  at 
twelve  o'clock  !  Oh,  that  moonlight  sail — perfectly  heavenly  !  with  the  sing 
ing  and  banjos,  and  guitars  and  our  poor,  poor  chaperons  !  We  got  back  at  four 
in  the  morning  at  early  cockcrow.  Mamma  let  me  sleep  till  ten,  then  up  I  got 
and  went  down  to  Mrs.  Moriarity's  with  Harry  and  Mr.  Danforth — "Just  to 
see  it,  you  know,"  but  sub  rosa  I  drank  a  Toby  of  ale  !  Tuesday  afternoon 
being  class  day,  Jack  and  I  endured  a  little  of  it  and  bolted.  Where  do  you 
think  we  went  ?  Why  we  drove  down  to  Savin  Rock  and  had  an  oyster 
supper,  he  and  Mr.  Nevers  and  Clara  and  I,  and  Clara  confided  in  me  that  she 
didn't  know  what  had  got  into  Harry  ;  he  was  of  late  so  offish  and  jealous. 

"  Clara,"  I  said,  "  isn't  it  true  that  a  college  town  is  the  worst  place  in  the 
world  for  a  girl  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  she  said.     "  Oh,  there  are  so  many  men,  and  such  nice  ones  !" 

"  It  is  hard  to  choose  ? " 

"  It  is  hard  not  to  choose  every  day  ! " 

Tuesday  night,  what  ?    Why,  a  party  at  the  Pillsburys'— great  Hillhouse 


THE   NEW  LONDON  RACE.  401 

Avenue  swells,  grand  old  house;  I  never  saw  such  a  jam,  everybody  there. 
But  we  kept  together,  I  mean  Clara,  Fanny  Brown,  Daisy  Stevenson,  and 
Bessie  Rives,  and  I.  I  went  to  bed  at  one  and  got  up  again  to  listen  to  the 
most  beautiful  serenade  you  could  ever  imagine— the  entire  Glee  Club  !  given 
to  all  the  girl  guests  in  the  hotel.  It  lasted  an  hour.  Oh,  so  heavenly  !  with 
the  soft  moon  trickling  through  the  graceful  old  elms  and  a  great  crowd  on 
the  fence  singing.  I  think  that  Latin  song  of  Horace,  Gaudeamus  igitur,  as 
they  sing  it,  is  a  perfect  college  hymn.  I  felt  so  stirred,  as  I  knelt  at  the 
window,  that  I  cried.  Oh,  it  was  so  sad,  and  I  thought  how  soon  all  this 
dear  old  college  life  will  be  over  for  my  dear,  dear  brother  and  Jack  !  Well  ! 
you've  no  idea  of  the  effect  of  night,  and  the  dim  outline  of  the  distant  college 
buildings  and  the  songs  out  of  the  deep  stillness  floating  up — then  what  do 
you  think  ?  Some  wretch  let  off  a  dozen  great  cannon  crackers  !  I  shut  my 
ears  and  went  to  sleep  as  best  I  might ! 

But  I  can  scarcely  write  another  word.  Commencement  to-day,  you  know, 
isn't  what  it's  cracked  up  to  be — as  they  say  here,  "  It's  awful  slow."  I  peeped 
in  and  saw  enough  to  satisfy  me  that  I'd  prefer  my  cool  flannel  yachting  suit, 
a  biscuit,  and  a  glass  of  champagne,  and  a  good  talk  with  Daisy  Stevenson, 
who  is  going  with  us,  on  the  Alcazar.  Mr.  Caswell  met  us  and  took  us  off 
with  Harry  and  Jack.  We  expect  a  jolly  trip  of  it,  and  Yule  sure  to  win. 

Rah  !  Rah  !  Rah  ! 

Your 

KITTY. 


CHAPTER  XLIIT. 

ON   THE    YACHT. 

^VERYONE  on  the  Alcazar  had  felt  sure  that  Yale 
would  win,  but  when  the  yacht  arrived  about  8  P.  M. 
off  the  Pequot  House,  the  terrible  news  was  rumored 
from  shore  that  Bob  Clark  had  broken  down. 

"  Don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Caswell,  Sr. 
"  The  old  Yale  joke,  but  played  out  !  " 

"  But,  father,  Bob  is  overtrained,  and  they  say  the 
boat  doesn't  suit  the  men,  and  each  man  has  a  felon." 

"  Bosh  !  I  say,  bosh  !  Teddy,  go  bet  every  cent  you  can  place. 
The  Pequot  House  is  the  great  rendezvous  ;  go  skirmish  about 
and  scare  up  some  Harvard  men  there  ;  bet  anything,  give  odds  on 
Yale,  back  up  the  old  college  !  "  The  old  gentleman  grew  red 
with  anger. 

"  Thanks,  I  guess  I'll  stay  aboard  and  wait  over  till  to-morrow." 
"  Why,  Teddy  !  "  His  father  gazed  at  him,  astonished. 
There  was  a  mournful  air,  a  quietude  about  Ted  Caswell,  which 
was  unnatural.  It  had  been  so  since  senior  society  elections  were 
given  out.  He  somehow  hung  back  now,  and  seemed  afraid  to 
put  himself  forward.  To  Jack  and  Harry  his  changed  demeanor, 
his  quietude,  seemed  pitiful,  and  made  them  both  feel  very  un 
comfortable.  The  way,  too,  General  Rives  and  Mr.  Caswell  talked 
about  Spade  and  Grave  made  their  hair  stand  on  end  !  as  though 
there  was  no  secrecy  at  all  !  no  mystery  !  Being  old  Spade  and 
Grave  men  themselves,  they  felt  that  their  open  talk  of  old  times  in 
the  society's  halls  was  both  natural  and  eminently  proper  ! 

"  Do  tell  us  all  that  goes  on  in  Spade  and  Grave  !  "  cried  Clara 
wickedly. 

Jack  and  Harry  tried  to  turn  the  subject. 


ON    THE    YACHT.  403 

'•'  Why,  Jack,  what  are  you  winking  so  hard  at  me  for  ?  "  asked 
the  old  general,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  Oh,  nothing,    sir." 

Clara  and  Harry  were  in  a  relation  of  "  strained  feeling," 
at  present.  During  the  term  they  had  had  not  one,  but  several 
"  lover's  quarrels."  For  a  few  weeks  after  the  Junior  Promenade 
they  had  been  very  happy.  Everything  went  smoothly.  They 
agreed  to  a  secret  engagement.  Clara  went  out  a  great  deal, 
passing  Easter  again  in  Xew  York,  where  she  went  demurely  to 
church  with  the  Chestletons  at  St.  George's.  Mrs.  Chestleton 
treated  Clara  affectionately,  as  she  treated  all  her  children's  friends. 
But  she  could  not  honestly  tell  her  son  she  "  took  "  to  her  very 
heartily.  To  Kitty  she  once  spoke  of  her  as  a  spoiled  child.  The 
truth  was  that  Clara  was,  like  many  girls,  super-sensitive  over  the 
question  of  her  relation  to  Harry.  She  "vowed  and  declared" 
that  she  would  not  have  a  long  engagement,  and  she  knew  it  would 
be  several  years  before  Harry  could  think  of  marriage.  After 
Easter  holidays  she  went  home  to  Cleveland,  where  influences 
decidedly  opposed  to  our  hero  were  brought  to  bear  on  her  by  her 
family.  A  "great"  match  was  talked  of.  Her  mother  wished 
her  to  have  a  London  season  as  her  sister  had  done,  and  to  see 
something  of  the  world  and  society.  "  Who  is  this  Chestleton 
boy,  who  is  so  ridiculously  fond  of  you,  Clara  ?  Is  his  family  in 
society  in  New  York  ?  Has  he  any  money  ?  " 

"Not  very  much,"  she  replied  faintly,  and  as  far  as  Mrs.  Hast 
ings  was  concerned  his  doom  was  apparently  sealed.  But  her 
mother's  opposition  to  Harry  strengthened  the  fair  girl  in  her  de 
termination  that  she  would  eventually  marry  the  handsome  pitcher 
of  the  'Varsity.  When  she  came  back  to  New  Haven  for  the  Com 
mencement  festivities  she  signified  to  Harry  that,  whatever  hap 
pened,  she  would  be  true  to  him.  But  then  she  flirted  so  desper 
ately  with  Blakely,  a  rich  New  Haven  graduate,  that  Harry  began 
to  despair  and  get  angry  again.  Jack  laughed  and  counseled 
patience.  "She  is  so  lovely  that  she  can't  help  being  a  college 
belle,"  he  said,  "  and  she  is  used  to  being  adored,  she's  so  very 
adorable  !  That's  the  worst  about  a  college  town,  a  girl  is  spoiled 


404  COLLEGE  DA  YS. 

by  too  much  attention,  but,  dear  old  boy,  she'll  get  over  it  !  She'll 
make  the  best  of  wives;  don't  be  too  severe  with  her  now."  Then 
he  gave  him  a  piece  of  worldly  advice  :  "Pitch  in  and  flirt  like  the 
mischief  yourself,  and  devote  yourself  to  some  other  girl — Fanny 
Brown,  for  instance — then  see  how  quick  she'll  change  her  tactics." 

Ted  Caswell  got  his  party  on  board  by  four  o'clock  that  Wednes 
day  afternoon — all  but  his  father  and  General  Rives,  who  were 
down  to  speak  at  the  dinner  in  Alumni  Hall,  and  who  had  not  long 
to  be  waited  for  ;  and  the  voyage  up  the  blue  Sound  had  been,  as 
the  pretty  girls  aboard  said,  "  Simply  gorgeous  !  " 

"  Is  life  worth  living?"  asked  Daisy  Stevenson  of  Harry  as  he 
stood  moodily  leaning  against  the  cabin  door,  smoking.  "You 
seem  not  to  think  so  now,  Harry,  and  yet  your  letters  when  I  was 
in  Rome  have  been  so  invariably  cheerful.  To  me  life  is  worth 
living  if  I  am  rich." 

"  Heresy  !  It's  peace  of  mind — if  you're  rich  it's  only  amuse 
ment  you  seek,  and  suppose  you  can't  enjoy  ?" 

"You  can  always  choose  your  environment — how  delightful  this 
yacht  is — and  how  pretty  the  lights  ashore  !  The  Pequot  is  a  blaze 
of  red  lights — Harvard's  quarters,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  not  the  quarters  of  the  crew,  you  know.  They  are 
'way  up  the  river  somewhere." 

"  Doesn't  the  moonlight,  the  little  lights  of  the  yachts — the  feel 
ing  of  excitement  in  the  air  over  the  race  to-morrow,  exhilarate 
you  ! " 

"  No,  not  an  exhilarate  ! " 

"  Brute  !  "   she  laughed.     "  You  blase  at  your  age  ! " 

Daisy  Stevenson,  after  her  year  abroad  at  Rome,  had  returned  to 
New  Haven  almost  completely  cured  of  her  early  infatuation.  She 
had  seen  more  or  less  of  the  gay  society,  American  and  English, 
which  every  winter  makes  its  headquarters  in  the  Imperial  City. 
At  first  she,  like  Hilda  in  Hawthorne's  famous  story,  had  worked 
hard  at  her  favorite  pursuit,  but  latterly,  in  the  warm  sunny  spring 
days,  it  had  been  one  continual  succession  of  social  engagements. 
She  had  had  many  men  at  her  feet.  She  read  and  studied  and 
developed.  At  that  distance  the  world  seemed  very  large  and  Yale 


ON    THE    YACHT.  405 

College  and  its  jolly  students  very  small  indeed.  She  had  a  serious 
flirtation  with  an  English  artist,  a  man  of  celebrity.  She  grew 
handsomer,  more  womanly,  more  mistress  of  herself.  At  the  time 
of  the  yachting  trip  she  was  meditating  a  favorable  reply  to  the 
English  artist,  who  offered  her  his  hand— and  a  delightful  home 
in  London  and  a  place  in  the  brilliant  London  world  of  art  and 
letters. 

"  What  ?"  cried  Kitty,  overhearing  them,  and  coming  up  to  her 
brother,  she  put  her  head  down  affectionately  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Call  my  be — rother  a  brute  ?  " 

"  He  won't  enthuse  !  " 

"  He  will  to-morrow  !  Poor  boy,  lie's  tired  !  Is  his  arm  all 
right  ?  "  she  asked.  "  The  arm  that  beat  Harvard  ?  " 

De  Koven,  always  the  immaculate,  joined  them.  Although  Cas- 
well  had  handed  out  yachting  caps  of  the  same  degree  of  gold  lace 
and  elegance  all  around  to  the  men,  nevertheless  De  Koven's  had 
the  neater,  jauntier  air  ;  it  looked  better  on  him  somehow.  He 
offered  his  arm  to  Kitty  and  they  strolled  off  toward  the  bow, 
laughing  and  chatting. 

"  That  young  man  ought  to  be  a  diplomat,"  said  Daisy — the 
same  wise  Daisy  as  of  old  ;  "the  way  he  does  things  is  enchanting." 

Harry  was  silent.  At  the  stern,  beneath  a  wide  awning  to  keep 
off  the  dew,  and  beneath  a  dozen  Chinese  lanterns,  nearly  all  of  the 
party  was  sitting.  It  was  just  after  dinner.  Mr.  Caswell  was 
extremely  fond  of  music  and  in  the  large  cabin  of  the  Al<-az<n;  he 
had  a  fine-upright  piano  carefully  covered  with  rubber  cloth.  Mrs. 
Caswell  went  in  and  played  a  lively  wait/,  for  them,  and  presently 
everyone  was  dancing  on  the  deck.  Boatloads  of  people  appeared 
out  of  the  darkness  from  neighboring  yachts,  and  there  was  more 
dancing,  and  now  and  then  an  ominous  popping  in  the  cabin 
below  indicated  that  Teddy  was  playing  the  host  in  his  old  style. 
With  considerable  personal  inconvenience  Mr.  Caswell  started  a 
blue  Bengal  light  at  the  bow,  and  presently  four  red  lights  burned 
brilliantly  near  them,  and  a 

"  Huh,  Rah,  Hah— Harvard  !" 


406  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

was  heard  in  the  distance,  coming  over  the  water.  They  felt  as  if 
the  enemy  was  upon  them  !  A  few  moments  later  and  a  bevy  of 
girls  dressed  in  red  appeared  at  the  yacht's  companion  way,  and 
were  invited  aboard  by  Mr.  Caswell.  They  were  New  York  girls, 
and  their  escorts  were  old  school  friends  of  Harry  and  Jack  who 
had  unwittingly  gone  to  Harvard.  A  jolly  dance  followed.  The 
Alcazar  was  a  large  roomy  steamer,  with  plenty  of  deck  room, 
and  the  music  was  furnished  by  guitars  and  banjos. 

Clara  danced  with  Jack,  and  then  with  Harry.  "  Why  are  you 
so  odd — so  distant?"  she  murmured. 

"  Clara,  you  know  that  my  heart  is  like  lead." 

"  Then  do  be  careful  about  falling  overboard,  dear." 

"  Perhaps  it  will  be  the  best  thing  for  me.  Life  is  unendurable 
to  me,  when  you  seem  to  care  so  little  for  me." 

"  Please — please  don't  go  on  spoiling  all  my  fun.  Are  you 
always  going  to  be  a  '  killjoy,'  standing  about  with  grewsome 
face  ?  Do  cheer  up  a  bit,  Harry.  You  act;  so  like  a — chump  !  " 
and  she  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Tell  me  one  word,  and  I  will." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Tell  me  you  love  me,  as  you  did  the  night  of  the  Junior  Prom, 
last  February." 

"  I  did  then." 

"  And  now  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  for  anyone  else.  No  one  shall  ever,  ever 
marry  me  but  you.  But  I  don't  think  I  want  to  marry  at  all— I 
hate  to  lose  my  freedom." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  freedom — opportunity  to  go  on  flirting 
with  every  man  you  see  ?  " 

"  Harry,  how  dare  you  !  " 

"  Well,  I'm  dreadfully  tired  of  things  as  they  are  !  " 

"  Don't  think  there  is  any  tie  between  us  that  1  shall  hold  you 
to,  Mr.  Chestleton." 

Her  voice  was  so  cold  and  distant  it  almost  made  him  feel 
ill. 

"  I   am   not  willing    to   go   on   in    this   way,"  he   said  sternly. 


ON    THE    YACHT.  407 

"Either  you  are  engaged  to  me  or  not.  Say  the  word,  Clara,  and 
end  my  mis  -ry.'' 

"  If  you  cannot  let  tilings  go  on  precisely  as  I  chouse  to  have 
them,  then  good-by!  " 

"  But— 

"I  want  no  'buts.'  You're  at  the  end  of  your  junior  year. 
Are  you  prepared  to  marry  no\v  ?" 

"  Yes.  I'll  jump  iu  a  boat,  row  you  down  to  New  London,  hail 
the  first  minister  we  can  find, and  be  married.  Come!  I'm  ready!" 

Clara,  looking  as  beautiful  as  excitement,  a  glass  of  champagne, 
arid  the  lamplight  and  moonlight  in  her  face  could  make  her,  hesi 
tated  a  moment. 

"  If  I  dared,  Harry,  it  would  show  your  jealous  heart,  once  for 
all,  that  I  would  sacrifice  <dl  for  you.  If  we  could  cany  it  out, 
I'd  do  it — yes,  yes— I  know  it's  best  !  I  know  that,  I  deserve  to  be 
thrown  over  a  do/en  times  for  the  way  I've  acted  all  through,  but 
what's  a  girl  to  do  in  a  college  town  ?  I  love  to  be  amused.'' 

"You  love  to  flirt!  " 

Her  eyes  fell  before  his,  and  she  reddened.  "  I'm  not  going  to 
confess  fimjtlt.iny"  she  laughed.  "  Besides,  it  isn't,  my  fault." 

"  Whose,  then?" 

"  Why  are  students  so  deceitful?"  she  asked,  bridling.  She 
looked  doubly  pretty  to  him  when  she  put  on  her  little  airs  and 
graces  of  high  dignity. 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"  Ah,  yes  !  if  men  were  only  more  truthful,  it  would  be  impossi 
ble  to  flirt  with  them." 

Harry  was  silent.  He  gave  her  his  arm  and  walked  toward  the 
bow.  On  a  yacht  near  by  a  crowd  of  Harvard  men  were  singing 
that  beautiful  Eton  boat  song  : 

"  But  we  will  still  swinir  topHhor, 
And  cheer  for  the  Harvard  crew,"  etc. 

and  at  the  Pequot  they  were  letting  off  some  bombs  in  honor  of 
the  freshman  victory  of  the  day  before.  The'  'graceful  elmlike  ruys 
of  iv  d  fire  rose  high  above  the  trees  and  went  out  in  a  gorgeous 


4o8  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

mass  of  color  against  the  sky.  The  Fort  Griswold  hotel  across 
the  harbor,  not  to  be  outdone,  shot  up  a  dozen  rockets. 

"  Isn't  it  beautiful,  Harry,  dear  ?  "  She  sought  his  hand.  "  The 
moon,  everything." 

"  It  might  be,  if— 

"  If  what  ?  " 

"  We  could  come  out — announce  our  engagement." 

"Harry!" 

"  Is  it  too  much  to  ask  ?  " 

"I  despise  an  engaged  girl,  she  always  looks  so  conscious." 

"  It  would  make  me  sure  of  you." 

"  Isn't  my  word  enough?" 

"  Does  it  keep  off  the  crowd  ?" 

"  Students!  You  are  the  first  and  only  student  who  ever  seemed 
the  least  bit  in  earnest,  to  me.  Even  Mr.  Saxton,  to  whom  I  was 
engaged  before  you,  I  never  thought  was  wildly  in  earnest." 

She  was  dressed  in  her  white  yachting  suit  with  brass  buttons. 
The  neat  costume  set  off  her  exquisite  figure  to  perfection.  Clara 
was  tall,  graceful,  dark-haired  and  starry  eyed.  She  was  his  god 
dess  and  she  knew  her  power.  They  passed  and  repassed  Miss 
Stevenson  on  De  Koven's  arm.  For  the  life  of  her,  as  they  met, 
she  couldn't  help  catching  De  Koven's  glance  and  smiling.  To 
flirt  seemed  to  be  the  life  of  this  girl.  She  loved  admiration.  It 
was  her  food  and  drink. 

"  Are  you  ever  in  earnest?  " 

"  I  confess  I'm  not  half  so  solemn  as  I  used  to  be  at  school  in 
Charmington.  The  world  is  not  half  so  sad  as  I  used  to  think. 
But  in  the  serious  matters  I'm  in  earnest;  of  course  I  am!  " 

"  Then,  dear  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you.  The  race  is  doubtful  to-morrow,  let  it  depend  on 
that.  If  Yale  wins — then  we'll  announce  our  engagement.  I'll 
paste  a  label  on  my  back,  'Beware — she's  private  property  !  '  I'll 
go  about  with  a  long  face,  and  I'll  never,  never,  never  speak  to  a 
man  again,  as  long  as  I  live.  I'll  just  say '  hands  off  ! '"  She  caught 
herself.  "Of  course  I  always  said  that, I  should  hope!  and  I'll  say 
yea,  yea,  and  nay,  nay,  and  talk  about  political  economy,  ami  if 


ON    7" HE    YACHT.  409 

anyone  mentions  your  name  I'll  blush  and  look  conscious  and 
pleased." 

"  If  Yale  wins  !  " 

"  Yes.  But  if  Harvard  (oh,  how  I  hope  she'll  just  beat  by  three 
inches  !) — then  I  shall  have  just  as  good  a  time  as  I  know  how  !  and 
when  the  time  comes  for  us  to  be  married — 

"  Married  !  do  you  think  then  that  I'll  care  to  marry  after  you've 
broken  my  heart  to  pieces?  " 

"  Why,  Harry  !  Of  course,  you  don't  mean  you  would  not,  in 
the  end?" 

"  What  can  you  think  me  made  of  ?" 

"  Well,  I  have  heard  it  said  you  had  a  good  deal  of  Yale  sand 
in  your  composition."  She  looked  away  demurely. 

"  Can  you  be  a  Puritan — you,  with  such  light  notions  ?  " 

"  A  Puritan  ?  Xo.  Puritanism  I  renounce  once  and  for  all.  I 
don't  believe  in  it.  I  think  my  ancestors  were  all  deluded.  They 
meant  well — but  the  world  is  given  us  for  a  purpose,  to  amuse  us. 
But,  come  now,  let  it  stand  on  the  race.  Engaged  or  not  engaged. 
To  marry  or  not — to  marry  !  Ileigho  !  I  did  long  to  have  Yale 
win." 

"  But  now  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  Harvard  girl — just  for  to-night  !  " 

With  that  she  left  him,  and  I  Tarry  lit  a  cigar  cheerfully,  and 
strode  about  less  silent  and  thoughtful. 


CHAPTER   XLIV. 


1 


VICTORY    AT    LAST. 

race !     The   race    is    the   thing !     All 
other  college   events  grow  small  in  com 
parison  with  that  great  and  glorious  June 
day  at  New  London.     The  crowds  that  gather 
about  a  ball  field  will  disperse  to  gather  again 
next   week,  but   the   vast   outpouring  at  New 
London  comes  but  once  a  year.     Alumni  may 
forget  the  nine,  or  may  know  little  about  foot 
ball,  but  when,  at  what  age,  does  interest  in  the 
boat  race  die  out  ? 

At  forty,  fifty,  or  sixty  yeai's  ?  We  saw  an  old 
Harvard  graduate  last  year  at  New  London,  at  least  seventy-five 
years  of  age,  white-haired  and  bent,  yet  with  red  ribbons  in  his 
buttonhole  and  waving  a  red  flag  like  some  antiquated  auctioneer. 
His  grandson  had  just  entered  college.  He  was  still  able  to  be 
jubilant  over  his  boy's  victorious  crew,  and  will  be  so  until  he  dies. 
When  Harvard  crossed  the  line  a  winner,  amid  the  booming  of 
cannon  and  the  crackling  "'rah,  'rah,  'rah,  Harvard  "of  the  under- 
grads,  we  heard  him  shout  a  quavering  "Hurrah,  Hurrah,  Tiger  !  " 
just  as  he  used  to  do  on  the  Charles  in  1843.  Enthusiasm  for  one's 
college  is  a  good  thing,  and  we  in  America  love  to  brag  of  our  suc 
cessful  Alma  Mater  as  we  do  of  our  successful  business.  We  love 
to  meet  our  opponents  later  on  cool  summer  hotel  piazzas  and  rub 
them  the  wrong  way.  If  we  lose  at  New  London  the  joke  is  on  us. 
We  submit  to  harmless  teasing,  and  say  hopefully  :  "  Oh,  just  wait 
till  next  year  !  "  It  is  a  part  of  our  interest  in  life. 

The   general   accommodations  for   sightseers  at   New   London 
are   good.     Those    who    devote    a    week   to    idling   at    the   Fort 


VICTOR  Y  A  r  LA  S T.  411 

Griswold  House  at  Eastern  Point  or  at  tlic  Pequot  enjoy  the 
gayety  of  the  week  at  its  host.  Old  classmates  meet  and  shake 
hands  on  the  broad  piazzas  which  overlook  one  of  the  prettiest 
marine  vie\vs  on  our  (-oast.  What  continued  interest  there  is  in 
this  busy  harbor  !  Here  flashes  past  one  of  Ilerreshoff's  smart 
little  steamers  ;  there  goes  the  new  Government  vessel,  the 
Vesuvius,  with  her  three  pneumatic  guns  at  her  bow.  Here  is  one 
of  the  crack  cutters  darting  by,  with  its  decks  crowded  with 
"swagger"  girls  in  red  and  blue.  The  very  air  is  keen  with 

OO  O  •/ 

excitement.  There  are  plenty  of  college  fathers,  mothers,  sisters, 
aunts,  and  cousins.  There  are  plenty  of  other  people  who  care  not 
for  the  races,  but  who  love  the  delicious  liveliness  of  the  great 
aquatic  week — the  stir,  the  fun  of  it.  We  may  be  all  landlubbers 
the  rest  of  the  year,  but  we  are  all  watermen  at  New  London.  We 
roll  in  our  gait,  we  hum  airs  from  "Pinafore,"  which  is  sung  by  a 
company  of  amateurs,  appropriately,  the  night  before  the  race,  at 
the  opera  house.  We  live  on  the  water,  talk  boating  and  recall 
old  boating  days.  There  is  a  dispute  between  us.  Is  a  girl  prettier 
in  her  yachting  dress  or  in  a  ball  costume?  We  insist  she  is  at 
her  best  in  her  charming  white  yachting  cap,  her  gold  lace,  her 
blue  and  white  flannels  ;  certes  she  never  looked  prettier  in  her  life 
than  when  she  (in  red)  fairly  danced  about  to  the  imminent  peril 
of  her  life  (for  she  would  go  overboard  were  she  not  so  light  and 
dainty)  when  she  saw  her  Harvard  crew  dasli  away  with  a  lead 
and  victory  again,  apparently,  at  the  first  mile  perching  on  the 
crimson  banners  of  Cambridge  !  My  dear  old  college  grad,  you 
cannot  do  better  than  to  take  the  girls  down  to  the  New  London 
race  week.  Go  down  and  stay  through  the  entire  week  from 
Sunday  to  Sunday.  Take  in  the  beautiful  sea  pictures  before 
you.  'Sit  a  little  back  from  the  crowd.  Let  the  girls  "  go  it,"  if 
they  want  to.  There  is  dancing  in  the  parlors  of  the  Pcqiiot  and 
Fort  Griswold  every  night.  There  are  plenty  of  handsome,  sun- 
browned  cavaliers,  mostly  in  sailor-like  flannels.  They  are  "just 
off  the  yacht"  and  white  flannel  prevails.  It  is  the  great  aquatic 
week  of  the  year,  and— ah  !  well  we  have  lost  our  heart  to  one 
of  some  other  fellow's  sisters  for  the  thirty-third  time. 


4I2  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

There  is  plenty  to  do.  If  one  is  an  old  oar,  lie  may  visit  the 
"  quarters  "  and  be  invited  to  dine  with  the  crew.  It  is  something 
like  feeding  so  many  "  cattle."  It  overpowers  one.  Huge 
chines  of  beef  disappear  off  the  table  like  magic,  and  great 
pitchers  of  milk,  tobies  of  ale,  and  loaves  of  stale  bread  are  quickly 
devoured.  Here  be  hungry  men,  their  brown  skin  like  satin,  their 
eyes  clear  and  white  like  porcelain.  It  is  forty  "  feeding  like 
one."  At  the  head  of  the  Yale  table  sits  the  great  coach,  Captain 
Clark  ;  and  to-night  the  table  is  graced  by  a  bevy  of  pretty  Yale 
girls  from  New  Haven — not  allowed  often,  but  this  year  "  Yale  is 
sure  to  win,"  and  so,  having  a  "  snap  "  on  Harvard,  as  the  saying 
is,  a  little  laxity  prevails  at  headquarters. 

The  party  on  the  Alcazar  spent  the  morning  of  race  day  steam 
ing  up  the  beautiful  Thames  River,  and  taking  a  peep  at  Yale  and 
Harvard's  quarters  far  up  on  the  left  bank  by  Gale's  Verry.  The 
race  was  to  be  rowed  at  five  o'clock.  Yet  already,  by  noon,  the 
town  was  full;  every  train  brought  crowds  of  "sweet  girl  gradu 
ates"  and  noisy  throngs  of  students.  Four  great  Sound  steamers 
are  moored  at  the  docks.  They  are  crowded  to  the  water's  edge 
with  sightseers  from  the  neighboring  towns.  The  yacht  has  some 
difficulty  in  getting  up  to  the  wharf,  where  a  number  of  Yale  notables 
await  it.  Old  grads,  old  oars,  and  old  "  coaches,"  whose  interest 
never  flags.  Yes,  there  is  Grannis  talking  with  the  referee,  and 
the  Alcazar  is  selected  as  the  referee's  boat — to  follow  the  crews 
from  start  to  finish.  Harry  welcomes  Grannis  on  board,  and 
introduces  him  to  all  his  friends.  His  presence  is  a  surprise.  "  I 
couldn't  keep  away,"  said  Grannis,  "  and  as  '  Yale  is  sure  to  win,' 
I  thought  I'd  come  down  and  help  the  shouting."  Grannis  had  a 
great  deal  to  tell  him  about  Ella  Gerhart — how  lovety  and  how 
subdued  and  quiet  she  was,  and  how  he  loved  her  and  saw  her  true 
worth  more  than  ever.  He  told  him  about  Hetherington  too,  who 
was  making  a  great  reputation  in  the  Western  college  where 
Grannis'  influence  had  got  him  installed.  "  He  doesn't  drink — and 
he's  so  glad  he  went  West  he  writes  me  an  ode  once  a  month  in 
Greek  hexameters  to  tell  me  so  ! " 

Clara  had  never  known  about  Ella  Gerhart,  and  her  story  was 


VICTORY  AT  LAST.  413 

generally  unknown  in  New  Haven.  Indeed  very  few  knew  it 
except  the  gay  members  of  her  burlesque  troop,  who  made  little  to 
do  over  what  they  called  her  "  love  affair." 

All  the  way  to  the  starting  point  at  Gale's  Ferry,  that  afternoon, 
Grannis  told  them  of  the  great  future  of  their  electrical  lighting 
business  and  how  he  had  "  roped  in  "  Miss  Hastings'  father  to  the 
extent  of  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Whereat  Clara  laughed  and 
Grannis  said  they  intended  to  rope  in  her  "fancy"  next — he 
probably  meant  fiance,  but  he  put  on  the  western  pronunciation 
with  a  bold  face.  "  Oh,  there's  millions  in  it  for  all  of  us  !  "  he 
laughed. 

"  Well,  it  all  depends,"  said  Clara  enigmatically  from  beneath 
her  blue  sun  umbrella. 

"iiow  so?" 

"  Well,  Mr.  Grannis,  perhaps  Harry  will  tell  you.  I  certainly 
will  not." 

"  I  don't  mind  Gran,"  laughed  Harry.  "But  don't  tell  anyone. 
If  Yale  wins  we're  engaged,  out  and  out,  up  and  down,  official.  If 
Harvard  wins  then  it's  off — Miss  Hastings  will  choose  some  other 
student — a  Harvard  man  presumably,  at  some  watering  place  this 
summer.  As  for  me,  I'll  enter  a  monastery." 

"Do  you  really  mean — you're  not  joking?"  asked  Grannis, 
amazed. 

"  We  are  perfectly  serious.  You  see  how  important  an  event 
it  is——" 

"  Will  you  two  let  your  entire  future  lives,  your  happiness,  turn 
on  such  a  slight  point?" 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"I  think  it's  wicked  !  " 

"Oh,  but  'Yale  is  sure  to  win,' "  Clara  said,  with  a  smile  at 
the  Westerner's  earnestness. 

"Suppose  she  breaks  her  rudder— an  oar— gets  stuck  in  the  eel 
grass — a  thousand  things?"  cried  Grannis  earnestly. 

"  Oh,  we've  considered  all  that,  Gran,"  s:iid  Harry.  '  And  Clara 
has  practically  given  me  the  best  crew  and  boat.  It  is  perfectly 
fair." 


4 14  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

"Fair?  Why, either  you  two  are  in  love  or  you're  not.  The 
race  ?  Ridiculous  !  There  will  be  a  thousand  races  where  there'll 
be  but  one  real  true  honest  love  match  !  " 

Harry  endeavored  to  change  the  subject,  but  Grannis  kept 
harking  back  to  it  and  urging  his  friend  to  withdraw  from  such 
an  absurd  wager. 

"You  are  Western,  Gran,"  said  Harry,  with  a  sardonic  smile. 
"You  appear  to  have  queer  notions  out  there.  Can't  one  bet  on 
love  as  on  everything  else  ?  Can't  we  toss  up  a  cent — and  trust  to 
luck  ?  I'm  sure  a  great  many  marriages  might  have  been  warded 
off  if  the  contracting  parties  had  been  as  level-headed  as  we  are 
about  it." 

"  Yes,  indeed  !"  said  Clara  imperturbably. 

The  Alcazar  gave  three  loud  long  whistles,  which  had  the  effect 
of  cutting  off  all  further  conversation.  Kitty  and  General  Rives 
were  promenading  to  and  fro,  the  general  now  anxious  as  he  ever 
was  before  a  battle  in  the  Civil  War,  discussing  the  chances  of  the 
race.  Miss  Garland  had  come  aboard,  and  a  party  of  Charmington 
girls.  From  that  time  till  near  the  end  of  the  race  Clara  and  Harry 
became  separated. 

They  passed  by  a  hundred  yachts,  anchored  along  the  line  with 
their  gay  signal  flags  flying.  The  referee  and  timekeepers  were 
up  in  the  bow,  and  it  was  nearly  five.  They  were  passing  the 
Harvard's  quarters.  Not  a  sign  of  life  was  visible.  Apparently 
no  one  had  ever  heard  of  a  boat  race  in  that  pretty  little  red- 
roofed  cottage  on  the  bluff  over  the  river.  The  boathouse  looked 
deserted.  Presently  one  or  two  men,  naked  to  the  waist,  and  wear 
ing  very  abbreviated  white  trousers  and  canvas  slippers  came  on  the 
float,  bearing  oars  the  blades  of  which  were  painted  red.  In  this 
country  we  paint  our  oar  blades  red  or  blue,  and  row  nude.  P^ven 
'the  coxswain  strips  with  the  rest.  There  is  no  need  to  row  in  dress 
suits,  but  there  should  be  seemly  clothing.  How  it  has  come  to  be 
the  fashion  in  America  to  adopt  the  prize  fighter's  "buff,"  we  do 
not  know.  Old  prints- show  us  Yale  crews  of  '52  in  white  uniforms 
(college  colors  were  not  chosen  until  1865).  It  is  to  be  hoped  that 
the  crews  will  in  future  make  an  effort  to  remedy  this  custom. 


VICTORY  AT  LAST.  415 

We  are  proud  of  your  muscles,  oh,  'Varsity  oars,  but,  with  our 
wives  and  sweethearts,  we  prefer  to  see  you  clothed  and  in  vour 
right  minds  as  all  oarsmen  row  in  England  ! 

The  referee  bawled  out  certain  instructions.  As  the  Alcazar 
steamed  away  more  naked  men  appeared,  bearing  more  oars  which 
they  laid  down  in  order  on  the  float.  Presently  the  cedar  boat  ap 
peared,  upside  down.  How  thrilling  it  was  to  see  that  ship  which 
was  to  bear  them  to  victory  or  defeat,  handled  so  tenderlv,  and 
dropped  into  the  water!  No.  '2  and  Xo.  5  got  in,  and  then  the 
Alcazar  lost  sight  of  Harvard  round  a  blulV,  and  a  pulling  tug,  drag 
ging  an  enormous  coal  barge,  came  straight  down  over  the  course. 
The  Alcazar  darts  up  to  the  captain  of  the  slow,  panting  little  tug, 
and  the  referee  shouts  : 

"  Get  off  the  course,  won't  you — and  wait  till  the  race  is  over  !  " 

"Go  to  thunder!  This  is  a  free  river,  aint  it,  boss  ?"  shouts 
the  captain  politely. 

'v  Xo  punishment  is  too  severe  for  such  a  scamp,"  said  the  referee, 
"  but  under  the  present  law  he  cannot  be  punished,  for  he  has  as 
much  right  in  the  river  as  anyone.  It  ought  to  be  possible  to  lock 
him  up  and  line  him,  and  it  ought  to  be  possible  also  to  do  away 
with  'suction'  by  regulating  the  distance  of  the  steamers  ;  but  a 
statute  is  first  necessary  to  attain  this  object." 

Now  all  eyes  are  turned  to  a  little  craft  which  has  crossed  the 
river  further  up  and  is  quietly  coming  leisurely  down  the  stream 
by  the  right  bank.  It  is  the  Yale  crew.  There  seems  to  be  no 
"snap  "to  their  stroke.  They  row  listlessly,  but  how  smoothly 
the  boat  slips  along  !  They  arrive  first  at  the  start,  generally  con 
sidered  a  misfortune.  There  are  shouts  of  a  thousand  voices  from 
the  "moving  irrand  stand  "  which  comes  up  from  New  London 
just,  then,  and  the  shouts  are  doubled  as  the  Harvard  crew  crosses 
the  river,  looking  bigger  and  heavier  than  Vale,  and  rowing  a 
"snappy  "  stroke  which  makes  theirbo.il  "  lift  "  at  every  stride.  At 
las!  the  two  ancient  rivals  are  lying  side  by  side,  boatmen  holding 
their  rudders  at  an  equal  distance.  It  is  a  moment  of  great  tension 
and  anxiety.  The  Alcazar  steams  up  as  close  as  the  shallow  water 
under  the  bank  will  permit,  and  more  orders  are  shouted  over  the 


4l6  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

water.  From  the  deck  of  the  yacht  it  seems  almost  a  straight  four- 
mile  course  to  the  great  railway  bridge  piers  at  New  London.  Not 
a  course  which  requires  very  great  dexterity  in  steering,  nor  which 
permits  of  any  great  display  of  watermanship.  It  is  simply  ding- 
dong  pulling  from  start  to  finish — four  miles. 

The  narrow  streams  of  England  furnish  more  excitement  in  rac 
ing  to  on-lookers  than  does  this  broad  lakelike  expanse  cf  water. 
Sharp  turns,  shoals,  and  narrow  bridges  give  an  English  coxswain 
something  to  do.  With  us  he  is  simply  an  interested  passenger, 
entirely  useless,  and  only  carried  in  imitation  of  the  English  sys 
tem.  The  steering  of  an  "eight  "  could  be  as  well  done  down  that 
straight  wide  four  miles  of  river,  as  the  steering  of  a  "  six,"  by  the 
bow  oar. 

After  a  brief  silence,  both  crews  are  "  set,"  reaching  forward 
at  arm's  length.  "  Are  you  ready  ?  Go  !  "  A  pistol  shot  follows, 
then  the  ciy  of  relief  and  excitement: 

"  They're  off  !  " 

Instantly  shouts,  rah-rah-rahs,  and  insane  yellings  begin.  The 
steamboats  flounder  along,  following  the  Alcazar.  Yale  and  Har 
vard  are  rowing  now  side  by  side.  Each  crew  is  in  perfect  form. 
There  is  no  splashing,  neither  gains.  The  two  styles  of  rowing  can 
be  easily  compared.  The  Harvard  boat  "  jumps,"  the  Yale  boat 
"  moves " ;  so  it  goes  until  the  half-mile  flag  is  reached,  and  the 
Alcazar  has  to  make  a  turn  to  avoid  the  coal  barge.  Then,  oh, 
woe  to  dear  old  Yale  !  Harvard  forges  a  little  ahead.  Then  a  trifle 
further.  Then  clear  water  between  Harvard's  little  rippling  rudder 
and  Yale's  brass-tipped  bow.  "It's  Harvard's  race!"  shout  a 
boatload  of  reds,  as  they  pass.  It  looks  so. 

Harry,  glass  in  hand,  stands  at  the  gunwale,  the  picture  of  utter 
woe.  The  race  is  life  or  death  to  him.  At  a  little  distance  near 
him  stands  a  girl  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  She  tries  to 
conceal  her  tears  from  him.  He  shan't  see  her  weaken  ! 

"  I  wouldn't  have  supposed  that  Miss  Hastings  cared  so  much  to 
have  Yale  win,"  said  Mr.  Caswell.  "  What  a  tender  heart  the  girl 
has  !  and  they  say  she's  such  a  coquette  !  " 

At  every  stroke  now  it  seems  as  if  Harvard  was  adding  to  the 


VICTORY  AT  LAST.  417 

"  clear  water"  between  the  two  boats.  The  Alcazar  is  in  the  rear 
of  botli  crews,  and  appearances  from  this  point  are  deceptive. 

Harry  quietly  put  down  his  glass,  and  went  into  the  yacht's 
elegant  cabin.  He  was  alone.  He  threw  himself  on  a  divan,  and 
gave  himself  up  to  bitter  musings. 

"  So  Harvard  wins — and  Clara  will  claim  that  she  is  free,"  he 
said  to  himself.  "I  don't  want  to  see  the  finish.  It  means  too 
much  to  me.  She  doesn't  love  me — she  never  will.  It  was  a  ruse 
of  hers  to  make  an  excuse  to  leave  me.  All  that  she  said  at  the 
Junior  Prom  was  mere  nonsense,  the  result  of  the  lights,,  the 
music,  the  excitement." 

Suddenly  he  felt  a  soft  touch  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Harry'!  " 

lie  looked  up.  Clara  had  sought  him  out.  The  traces  of  tears 
were  in  her  eyes. 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  I — I — don't  care  if  Harvard  does  win — I — I  can't.  I  won't — 
I'll  do  just — just  as  you  please." 

But  he  put  her  away  with  pretended  sternness. 

"  Perhaps  this,  too,  is  only  a  momentary,  a  temporary  feeling. 
Do  you  remember  the  Junior  Prom?"  Ilis  heart  was  beating 
wildly. 

"  Harry,  forgive  me  !  "     She  was  in  tears. 

He  could  no  more  resist  her  than  he  could  fly.  He  took  her  in 
his  arms. 

"  Whoever  wins,  you're  my  fjirl?"  he  cried  joyously. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  " 

"  Eveiyone  shall  know  it  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"If  Harvard  wins  by  ten  boat-lengths?" 

"By  a  hundred  !  " 

Suddenly  they  hear  a  great  shout  outside.  On  their  own  yacht 
there  is  comparative  silence,  as  it  is  not  considered  decorous  to 
take  sides  very  strongly  while  the  yacht  is  performing  her  mission 
of  "  referee's  boat."  Hut  they  are  evidently  passing  an  anchored 
Yale  yacht,  for  they  hear  someone  shout  the  words  "  )'///»•'.«  ,/at'n- 


418  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

ing  /"  and  liand  in  hand  rush  up  on  deck.  They  tell  their  tale  in 
their  happy,  radiant  faces — but  who  looks  at  them  now  ?  The  race 
is  the  thing  !  Harvard  is  still  ahead,  but  rowing  a  trifle  ragged. 

Yale  is  rowing  well  and  pulling  every  stroke  through;  not  so 
Harvard.  They  are  spurting,  and  look  already  half  pumped,  but 
the}1-  are  strong,  and  keep  up  their  work  and  so  maintain  their  lead. 
Great  overloaded  steamboats  at  anchor  are  passed  ;  everyone  is  on 
one  side  and  the  great  tubs  careen,  and  look  as  if  they  were  going  to 
capsize  ;  vast  volumes  of  roars  come  from  these  boats  and  from  the 
moving  grand  stand,  on  the  shore.  The  two  and  a  half  mile  flag 
is  passed,  Yale  is  now  slowly  creeping  up.  As  her  men  are  close 
under  the  Alcazars  bow,  it  is  easy  to  study  them.  Everything  is 
quiet  in  the  boat.  Bob  Clark  at  stroke  is  cool  and  well  "  within- 
himself."  He  is  setting  32  strokes  a  minute,  and  he  has  not  varied 
this  so  far.  Old  Harvard  oarsmen  on  the  Alcazar  groan  at  the  even 
and  perfectly  businesslike  way  the  Yale  crew  is  working  ;  while 
everyone's  heart  is  in  his  mouth  with  excitement.  An  old 
Harvard  oar  whispers  to  a  friend  in  Clara's  hearing,  "  It's  all  up  with 
us  "  and  she  believed  all  was  lost  !  She  is  clapping  her  hands,  now, 
and  crying — happy  tears  running  down  her  cheeks,  as  Yale  with 
that  beautiful  smooth  movement,  as  a  fish  swims,  creeps  up.  No 
excitement  whatever  in  the  boat.  It's  the  same  killing  smooth 
stroke,  same  time,  well  pulled,  though  !  The  men  themselves 
know  Bob's  policy.  They've  expected  Harvard  to  jump  away 
with  the  lead,  and  now  they  know  as  they  begin  to  hear  the  des 
perate  "  swish  "  of  Harvard  oars  again,  that  "  Bob  "  is  right !  Slowly, 
slowly,  Harvard  drops  back.  The  three-mile  flag  is  passed.  The 
two  crews  are  as  even  as  at  the  start.  But  now  glance  at  the 
difference  in  the  rowing  !  No.  3  in  Harvard's  boat  shows  signs  of 
distress,  No.  6  pulls  half  his  stroke,  No.  7  is  pulling  out  of  the 
boat.  The  crew  are  in  a  desperate  fix.  Their  struggle  is  awful  ! 
Nos.  4  and  5  row  "  out  of  the  boat."  The  face  of  their  famous 
"  stroke,"  who  is  pulling  each  stroke  as  finely  as  the  first  at  the 
start,  is  stamped  with  terrible  agony.  Oh,  it  is  so  hard,  so  hard  to 
win— to  believe  the  race  over— and  then  to  lose  !  In  Yale's  boat 
the  men  are  rowing  as  if  at  their  ease.  The  water  roughens  a  little 


VICTORY  AT  LAST.  419 

and  a  new  danger  arises  ;  suppose  they  get  water-lodged  ?  But 
though  they  carry  a  number  of  extra  pounds  of  II..O,  it  seems  to 
make  no  difference.  The  race  is  theirs.  Each  man  knows  it. 
They  keep  up  perfect  form,  the  31  mile  flag  is  passed,  Vale  leads 
by  a  half-boat  length,  and  now  Bob  calls  in  his  mm  for  a  spurt. 
He  quickens  to  38,  the  Yale  boat  slips  away,  and  the  race  becomes 
a  procession.  Cannon  boom,  whistles  shriek.  The  line  is  crossed, 
and  Bob  stops  rowing,  his  crew  not  at  all  pumped.  They  wait 
a  minute  for  Harvard  to  pull  up.  As  Harvard  rests,  No.  rj  falls 
over  in  a  faint,  and  they  dash  water  in  his  face.  As  the  Alcazar 
approaches  they  ask  the  time,  which  is  21:  42.  The  race  is  over  for 
the  year ! 

Rah— rah — rah  ! 

Rail— rah— rah  ! 

Rah— rah— rali  !— Yale  ! 

Harry  looked  down  into  Clara's  beautiful  eyes. 

"  You  darling  !  you  came  to  me  when  you  believed  you  were 
free." 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"Now  I've  won — you  shall  do  exactly  as  you  please.  I'm  a 
jealous  old  fool  !  " 

"  Harry  !  " 

"  You  shall  flirt  all  you  please  !  " 

"  How  noble  we  bof/i  are  !  "  she  laughed. 

But  on  the  way  to  New  Haven  that  night  everyone  on  the 
Alcazar  had  laughed  over  and  knew  their  story.  And  from  that, 
great 'Varsity  race  day  Harry  never  had  cause  again  to  complain  of 
the  pretty  college  belle's  behavior. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 


THE    LAST    CHAPTER    OF    ALL. 

summer  vacation  with  the  Hastings  family  was 
the  most  delightful  one  of  Harry's  college  days. 
Clara's  father  had  returned  from  abroad  and 
chartered  a  steam  yacht  which  was  large  enough  to 
accommodate  a  dozen  guests.  After  the  season's 
yachting  Harry  went  home  with  them  to  Cleve 
land  in  September.  While  in  Cleveland,  at  their 
beautiful  home  on  Euclid  Avenue,  he  called  upon 
the  Gerharts.  Ella  was  living  alone  in  the  large 
house  with  her  father.  The  rest  of  the  family  were  still  on  a  visit 
to  Germany.  She  would  not  leave  him,  and  he  told  Harry  that  he 
was  glad  she  had  not,  as  she  had  nursed  him  through  a  severe  ill 
ness.  The  faithful  Grannis  was  away  in  New  York  on  business 
when  Harry  was  in  Cleveland.  Ella's  father  could  not  say  enough 
in  praise  of  his  daughter  when  Harry  called  on  him.  "  She  goes 
about  among  the  poor,"  said  old  Gerhart,  "  and  she  stints  herself, 
poor  girl  !  Ach,  himmel !  it's  sad  to  see  her.  She  gives  every 
thing  to  the  poor,  all  that  she  has.  And  she  especially  befriends 
poor  working  girls.  And  every  night  and  day  she  prays  for  you, 
Harry.  And  she's  glad  you're  happy  and  are  to  marry  rich  Mr. 
Hastings'  daughter,  but  she  won't  see  you  ever  again,  so  she  says  ; 
but  dear  me,  she's  only  twenty,  you  know." 

Clara  spent  the  fall  of  Harry's  senior  year  in  New  Haven.  She 
was  undoubtedly  now  very  much  in  love.  Those  who  had  doubted 
it  and  had  questioned  her  fidelity  believed  when  they  saw  how  little 
she  went  out,  save  in  Harry's  company. 

Meanwhile,  senior  year,  the  loafing  year,  sped  on  with  a  solemn 
and  a  serious  tread.  It  is  not  a  picturesque  year  at  Yale.  Even 
society  life  in  New  Haven  "  drags  "  a  little.  One  knows  all  the 


THE   LAST   CHAPTER    OF  ALL.  421 

girls.  There  are  no  surprises.  Yet  many  claim  that  senior  year  is 
the  pleasantest  of  the  four.  The  struggle  of  the  low-staiiders  to 
"  stay  in  "is  mostly  over.  The  senior  society  men  are  no  longer 
discussing  "  chances."  It  is  like  a  safe  harbor  after  a  stormy  sea. 

In  old  days  seniors,  all  that  were  able,  took  up  their  abode  near 
the  fence  in  "  South."  The  old  dormitory  is  gone  no\v,  to  make 
way  for  the  "  greater  Yale."  It  has  followed  the  fence.  But  in 
those  pleasant  old  days  of  Harry  and  Jack,  in  old  South,  college 
life,  mellowed  with  three  years  of  "hard  grinding,"  was  m.w 
lightened  into  scholastic  ease.  It  was  a  year  of  ''calm  delight" 
like  Ileber's  Sabbath.  Solemn  thoughts  of  what  was  expected 
of  them  in  life  by  parents  and  guardians  now  occasionally  haunted 
them.  The  top-heavy  old  Lit.  was  burdened  with  their  Addisonian 
essays  upon  such  serious  topics  as  "Life's  Highest  Aim,"  "What 
four  years  have  done  for  me,"  "  Yale  and  Harvard  compared  "  (to 
Harvard's  disadvantage). 

The  Townsend  prize  essays  and  the  De  Forest  gold  medal  occu 
pied  the  thoughts  and  attention  of  many,  but  clever  diplomacy 
with  Harvard  and  Princeton  over  athletic  questions  absorbed  the 
best  talent  and  most  of  the  time  of  the  "  knowing  ones." 

The  diplomacy,  reader,  required  in  arranging  modern  college 
ball  games,  boat  races,  football  games,  or  intercollegiate  sports, 
requires  talent  of  no  mean  order.  The  ordinary  old-fashioned 
college  grad  may  wonder,  "What  on  earth  has  got  into  those 
fellows?"  but  he  must  be  told  that  diplomacy  must  and  shall  have 
its  day.  It's  the  same  when  Oxford  or  Cambridge,  England, 
arrange  a  race  with  us.  They  always  try  (o  win  on  paper.  It's  so 
in  the  grand  international  yacht  races:  clever  men  try  to  leave 
nothing  fair  undone  that  will  tend  to  bring  victory  (heir  way.  So 
we  have  letters  from  captains,  college  meetings  (o  protest,  counter 
letters,  meetings  of  captains,  and  what  not;  each  college  is  trying 
to  suit  itself.  One  year  Harvard  "  won't  play  "  Princeton,  or  Vale, 
and  all  because  some  little  point  is  refused.  It  looks  rather  silly  ;  it 
is  really  not  so  in  the  least.  These  college  games  have  assumed  a 
national  importance  in  (he  sporting  world  and  everything,  for 
sooth,  must  be  carefully  arranged  by  diplomacy  ! 


422  COLLEGE   DA  YS. 

With  Harry — especially  under  Professor  Growler — it  was  a  year 
of  hard  work.  He  had  stood  pretty  well  up  in  the  first  division  all 
junior  year,  and  now  he  "  let  up"  a  little  in  his  studies,  but  read 
history  and  "  outside "  books  a  great  deal.  His  future  began  to 
trouble  him.  Clara  wished  him  to  become  a  lawyer.  So  did  his 
mother,  but  hard-headed  Mr.  Hastings  said:  "  Go  at  once  into  that 
electric  business  in  Cleveland  witli  Mr.  Grannis,  and  make  money. 
You  can  study  law  afterward — but  my  experionce  is,  Harry,  that 
to  practice  law,  a  young  man  needs  a  good  income!  " 

This  was  what  Harry  himself  wanted  to  do.  After  his  long  hard 
studying  year  he  came  to  the  conclusion,  like  so  many  young  Ameri 
cans,  what  is  it  all  worth  unless  you  have  money  ?  Money  was 
his  chief  object  now,  yet  Clara  wished  him  to  be  a  lawyer.  So  did 
his  mother.  He  did  not  wish  to  disappoint  them. 

Since  that  moonlight  night  in  New  London  Clara  had  been  a 
different  girl.  She /e^  she  was  Harry's  wife,  she  often  said.  She 
received  no  one.  She  gave  the  wealth  of  her  heart  and  sweet  young 
girlhood  to  him.  She  leaned  oil  him,  trusted  him. 

As  our  hero's  character  and  mind  expanded  under  his  earnest, 
studious  college  life,  hers  expanded  also.  She  learned  that  beneath 
his  intense  earnestness  of  purpose  he  had  a  fine  high  spirit.  He 
was  unselfishness  itself,  and  when  he  came  to  trust  her,  his  morose- 
ness  and  moodiness  disappeared. 

At  last  the  closing  college  days  came  at  Yale.  The  class  day, 
with  its  jokes  and  jollity,  the  ivy  planting,  the  Senior  Prom, 
Commencement,  with  "  Old  Andy  "  leading  off  in  the  Salutatory 
and  David  Alum,  pale,  and  already  ill  with  the  fatal  disease  which 
soon  after  carried  him  to  his  grave,  ending  all  with  the  Valedictory. 
What  a  proud,  sad  day  it  was  for  that  quaint,  faithful  Aunt  Sarah, 
who  sat  sobbing  with  a  queer,  lean  old  man  in  a  front  seat  in  the 
gallery.  The  queer,  lean  old  man  was  David's  father,  the  Rev. 
Cyrus  Alum — a  rural  Connecticut  clergyman,  who  had  graduated 
at  Yale  in  the  remote  past,  had  himself  stood  at  the  head  of  his 
class,  where  David  now  stood,  but  had  since  scarcely  been  heard 
of — the  way  of  so  maiw  valedictorians  ! 

Harry  was  not  to  make  his  last  appearance  as  an  orator  in  mid- 


THE    LAST   CHAPTER    Ol<    .ILL. 


423 


day,  in  that  hot,  crowded  Center  Church,  in  :i  dress  suit.     The  un 
kind  fates  did  not  -rant  him  an  appointment,  and  he  was  only  one 


in  a  block  of  six  \vhich  Professor  Sinister  sent  up  on  (lie  stan'e  to 
receive  their  sheepskins.  His  mother,  Kittv,  and  (  'lara  saw  him 
from  the  o-allery,  and  lie  bowed  to  them  and  smiled,  while — an 


424  COLLEGE  DAYS. 

unusual  thing— the  audience  applauded  the  famous  pitcher  who 
had  only  once  been  defeated  by  Harvard. 

"  Oh,  you're  so  silly  ! "  cried  Kitty,  as  her  mother's  eyes  filled 
with  a  proud  delight  and  the  tears  rolled  down  her  face.  "The 
idea  of  crying  over  Harry  when  everyone  is  just  crazy  over  him!  " 

Clara  Hastings  looked  on  with  a  tine  light  in  her  eyes. 

She  was  proud  of  him,  and  so  too  were  her  own  father  and  mother, 
who  came  on  to  attend  Commencement.  Harry  was  the  most 
sincerely  popular  man  of  his  class,  lie  was  quiet,  modest,  yet 
greatly  liked.  "  If  you  must  throw  yourself  away  on  a  student," 
exclaimed  her  mother,  who  had  been  completely  captivated  by 
Harry,  "  he's  the  pick  of  the  flock  !  Ah,  well  !  I  don't  know, 
Clara,  but  it  is  just  as  well.  I  believe  in  youthful  marriages.  So 
I  hear  you  began  your  acquaintance  in  the  drawing-room  car  when 
Harry  first  went  on  to  New  Haven  as  a  freshman  ?  and  you 
followed  it  up  by  being  upset  by  him  at  Lake  Saltonstall !  Well, 
he's  a  fine  looking  young  man.  Your  father  quite  takes  to  him. 
But  he's  got  a  will  of  his  own." 

"Yes,  but  I'll  control  that !  "  laughed  Clara  gayly. 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  !  "  said  her  mother.  "  But  I  prefer  a  young 
man  who  is  in  earnest,  as  he  is.  There  are  too  many  shambling, 
easy-going,  pleasure-loving  young  men  nowadays.  Yes — I  like 
his  soberness,  his  earnestness.  He  will  make  a  fine  man." 

Miss  Mul ford  gave  them  a  luncheon  when  Commencement  was 
over,  and  Jack  made  them  all  very  merry  again  with  his  gibes  and 
wit  over  the  laborious  years,  and  the  "  little  to  show  for  it." 

"  Thank  Heaven  we  got  out  of  college  when  we  did,"  he  laughed. 
"The  way  buildings  are  going  up  the  campus  will  soon  be  nothing 
better  than  a  stoneyard.  Everyone  seems  kind  enough  to  die  at 
once  and  leave  Alma  Mater  a  dormitory  !  When  I  die  I  shall 
leave  some  money  to  increase  the  professors'  salaries.  Dear  old 
Yale  !  Dear  old  faculty  !  They've  been  square  to  me,  as  they  are 
to  every  mother's  son  of  us  !  We've  had  a  jolly  four  years  of  it — 
haven't  we,  Harry  ?  We  never  really  had  a  serious  row,  had  we?" 

"  No,  you  always  yielded  to  my  superior  judgment !  "  laughed 
Harry. 


THE   LAST   CHAPTER    OF  ALL.  425 

"  And  now  we  arc  going  off  the  stage  so  soon,"  sighed  Jack. 
"  Others  are  going  off  too— did  you  hear  of  Daisy  Stevenson's 
engagement,  Harry  ?  " 

"She  wrote  me  ;  to  her  English  artist  who  has  a  gorgeous  house 
in  London." 

"  And  Fanny  Brown's  ?  " 

"  To  whom  ?  " 

"  To  Daisy's  brother  !     Oh,  by  the  bye,  Stamp  is  engaged  too." 

"  To  whom  ?  "  laughed  Clara/ 

"  Engaged  to  end  his  days  at  Yonkers  at  the  old  place.  The 
governor  has  engaged  him — but  he'll  be  on  hand  as  mascot  every 
Harvard  or  Princeton  game  sure — he  has  behaved  gloriously.  Did 
you  ever  hear,  Miss  Mulford,  of  his  great  fight  at  Mitford  ?  No  ? 
Well,  you  see 

And  Jack,  in  spite  of  all  they  could  do,  went  on  and  narrated  all 
about  Stamp  and  his  three  conquests,  and  the  wicked  Bridgeport 
dog  they  "  rang  in  "  on  him.  Miss  Mulford  always  delighted  in 
Jack  ;  was  secretly  grieved  that  Clara  did  not  prefer  him.  lie 
amused  her.  She  loved  his  wild  stories.  Harry  she  thought 
a  little  too  self-contained.  lie  took  things  too  seriously.  She 
laughed  till  she  nearly  had  a  fit,  and  they  were  obliged  to  give 
her  a  swallow  of  water,  over  the  diploma  and  degree  of  C.  I. — 
Canis  Illustrissimus — which  Jack  had  written  out  in  Dog  Latin, 
and  hung  on  Stamp's  collar. 

After  lunch  on  Ilillhouse  Avenue  they  drove  to  Alumni  Hall  in 
time  to  hear  the  speaking,  and  in  time  to  hear  General  Rives  thrill 
the  audience  of  old  grads  with  an  eloquent  appeal  for  Yale  and 
its  future  needs— a  trite  and  familiar  subject  at  Alumni  dinners, 
but  iu  this  instance  made  effective  by  the  old  general's  enthusiasm. 

Harry,  at  Grannis'  request,  and  after  many  tears  on  Clara's  part 
—tears  which  were  turned  to  joy  afterward  as  she  rcali/ed  that 
Harry  would  not  now  have  to  be  separated  from  her— went  to 
Cleveland  and  into  the  electric  lighting  company.  For  a  year 
he  worked  very  hard  and  faithfully.  H<>  had  good  judgment  and 
a  sound  business  head.  Grannis  watched  over  him  like  a  father. 
Mr.  Hastings  bought  more  stock  and  went  into  the  concern  as  an 


426  COLLEGE  DA  VS. 

officer.  From  the  first  Harry  became  self-supporting,  and  refused 
to  receive  from  his  mother  or  uncle  a  cent  from  the  estate.  Gran- 
nis  thought  this  a  wise  step,  and  everything  that  Grannis  said,  lie 
did.  It  made  Clara  provoked.  "  You  never  think  of  us"  she  said, 
with  a  pretty  pout,  which  Harry  laughingly  kissed  away. 

"  You  see,"  said  old  Gran,  "  you'll  work  the  harder  if  you  are 
just  fighting  it  out  on  one  line  for  yourself.  You'll  have  enough 
and  to  spare.  Then,  you  know,  your  mother — why,  she's  a  woman. 
I — I  hate  to  be  supported  by  a  woman." 

He  could  say  no  more. 

But  a  year  later  Clara  put  her  foot  down,  and  presently  there 
was  a  gorgeous  wedding,  and  half  of  Umpty-four  came  to  attend 
it  from  all  over  the  country.  And  Dan  came.  Dear  old  Dan  and 
dear  old  Jack — Harry's  groomsmen — and  as  one  wedding  always 
makes  another,  and  as  Jack  and  Kitty  had  gotten  over  their  little 
affair  by  this  time  (whoever  expected  Jack  to  be  serious  in  these 
matters?)  and  as  Kitty  and  Dan  were  thrown  much  together,  why 
— was  it  odd  that  their  engagement  was  announced  in  the  follow 
ing  fall  ? 

For  six  months  Harry  and  Clara  traveled  in  Europe.  They  rode 
bicycles  in  England  through  the  Lake  Country,  they  boated  on  the 
Thames,  they  rode  to  hounds  in  Surrey  and  Shropshire,  went  fish 
ing  in  Wales — visiting  some  old  friends  of  the  Hastings,  at  their 
fine  old  country  seat.  Ah,  what  a  delightful  six  months  they  had  ! 
And  they  learned  to  love  England  as  a  mother !  and  Oxford 
seemed  a  second  alma  mater. 

After  Danforth's  engagement  to  Kitty  Chestleton  was  announced, 
and  after  the  good  fellow  had  buckled  down  to  hard  work  in  the 
Columbia  law  school,  her  mother  took  Kitty  out  of  school  and 
went  abroad,  meeting  Harry  and  his  lovely  wife  in  Mentone.  One 
day  in  January  Harry  received  the  following  telegram  from 
Grannis  at  Cleveland  : 

'  You  must  return  at  once.  Important  matters  call  me  away. 
Expect  to  be  married  myself.  Tico  can  play  at  that  game." 

They  knew  that  the  good  fellow  had  obtained  Ella's  consent  at 
last. 


THE   LAST   CHAPTER    01-    ALL.  427 

L'ENVOI,    AFTER    FIFTEEN    YEAKS. 

A  year  or  so  ago  Harry  spent  a  week  at  Xe\v  Haven  with  his  wife 
and  his  two  boys — sturdy  young-  rascals  whom  he  was  already 
inculcating  in  early  lessons  in  baseball — and  went  over  the  old 
days  from  that  first  morning  when  he  was  a  lad  conning  his  Vergil, 
and  smiled  upon  by  Ella  Gerhart  and  the  pretty  shop-girls.  Jack 
was  there  with  them,  and  the  two  old  friends  were  wandering  about 
the  campus,  looking  sadly  around  for  the  fence  "that  is  no  more." 

"  What  old  fogies  we  are,"  said  Jack  Hives  (the  distinguished 
and  very  rising  young  lawyer,  now  of  New  York).  ''Is  it  possible 
we've  been  out  of  college  fifteen  years  ?  How  the  old  place  has 
changed  !  " 

"  Eheu  fuf/aces !  "  said  Harry,  forgetting  the  rest  of  the  Latin. 
What  has  a  busy,  money-making,  business  man  to  do  with  Latin, 
anyhow  ? 

"  Yes,  JEJieu — eheu,  labuntur  annif"  laughed  Jack.  "The  old 
place  is  not  the  same.  There  are  a  lot  of  strangers  here  now, 
Harry.  Dear  old  Professor  Shepard  has  passed  away.  \\'ho  are 
these  boys  one  sees — not  students?  How  young  they  look! 
even  the  seniors  !  Could  we  have  ever  been  so  ridiculously  green 
and  youthful  looking  when  at  Yale?" 

They  agreed  that  they  felt,  both  of  them,  exceedingly  old. 

A  voice  called  out  of  a  doorway  : 

"Mauniir,  Mas'  Hives  and  Mas'  Chestleton  !" 

It  was  Alston  !  lie  was  the  same  old,  dingy  sweep,  with  the 
ring  of  brass  keys  about  his  neck,  as  of  old  !  lie,  at  least,  had 
not  changed. 

It  is  a  singular  touchstone,  going  back  to  college.  The  world 
is  so  large — it's  so  hard  to  become  anywise  famous.  Hopes  were 
so  grand  in  those  days  !  How  far  any  of  us  have  come  from  iul- 
filling  them  !  The  great  men  in  college  days  fill  such  small 
niches  in  life  !  That,  high-browed,  fine-forelieaded  Smith  is  now  a 
little  pettifogging  attorney  somewhere  in  Pittsburg.  Ormsby, 
the  college  poet,  is— alas,  shall  we  confess  it  ?— a  country  < 
The  great  man— Stonley— the  genius  of  his  class,  is  teaching  in 


428 


COLLEGE   DA  VS. 


a  ladies'  seminary.     For  a  genuine  attack  of  the  blues,  go  back 
alone,  oh,  alumnus,  and    wander  about  those  classic  shades   once 


NIN',  MAS'  CHESTLETON." 


again,  solus  !  Ah,  the  ghosts  of  the  fading  past  !  They  haunt 
every  elm,  every  doorway,  every  window,  crying  continually,  "To 
the  few  shall  come  success,  to  the  many  failure  !  " 


THE   LAST   CHAPTER    OF  ALL.  429 

They  went  back  to  their  hotel  fairly  depressed.  "  Wo  amount 
to  nothing — we  have  done  nothing — we  feel  ashamed  !  "  they 
said,  "after  fifteen  years  !  " 

"  Nonsense  !  "  cried  Clara,  looking  up  with  her  fine,  beautiful 
eyes  in  Harry's  face.  "  You  have  married  we/" 

"  Well,  /haven't  !  "    laughed  poor  Jack.     "  I  think  I'm  left  !  " 

They  sat  out  on  the  balcony  of  the  New  Haven  House  that 
evening,  smoking,  and  looking  across  at  the  beautiful  new  Osborne 
Hall,  and  talking  of  old  times. 

"  Our  days  were  not  these  days,  Jack,"  said  Harry.  "  The  college 
is  grown  great.  Life  here  is  different  now.  Why,  they  even  have 
an  illustrated  comic  paper,  the  old  Record,  you  know — and  they 
are  much  greater  swells  than  we,  in  our  simple  times,  ever  thought 
of  being.  But  the  spirit  is  the  same.  Yale  sand !  that's  it  ! 
Yale  pluck,  not  luck,  wins  now,  as  it  used  to  do.  Yale  men  out 
in  the  world  get  ahead  in  the  same  way,  by  work  and  energy— 
that's  what  Yale  teaches." 

"  A  material  sort  of  teaching,"  said  Clara. 

"  Yes,  that's  so,  it  is  material,  the  money-maker's  philosophy— 
American  doctrine.  Not  a  bit  of  literary  fines*';  or  poetry  or 
romance,  but  dogged  work,  and  success  to  crown  it,  that's  Yale — 
and  always  will  be,  I  hope  !  " 

"As  a  young  millionaire — it  behooves  you,  Harry,  to  have  such 
sentiments  !  But,  for  me — a  starving  lawyer — 

"  Oh,  you  must  marry  a  rich  girl,  Jack,"  laughed  Clara.  "  Come 
out  and  make  us  a  visit — we'll  soon  marry  you  off,  you  clear 
old  boy  !  " 

Jack,  the  rascal,  shook  his  head.  "  No  marriage  for  me  ! 
Thanks  !  Ted  Caswell  isn't  ;  Ncvers  isn't— lots  of  us  are  loft, 
I_I  wonder  if  Miss  Walker  would  have  me  now?  She  must 
be  very—  ripe.  What  a  dear  old  thing  she  was— and  is  ! 


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